


Taking Back Control

by galacticLEI



Category: markiplier - Fandom, youtube - Fandom
Genre: Abuse, Angst, Emotional Abuse, F/M, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Manipulation, Physical Abuse, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-21
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2019-02-05 01:34:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 37,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12784080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/galacticLEI/pseuds/galacticLEI
Summary: Amy Nelson awakens in a manor clueless as to how she arrived there. Soon to discover she has been kidnapped in a scheme by characters she'd presumed to be fictional. Soon to discover she is the bargaining chip in a greater plan. Soon to discover that nothing is what it seems, and she is going to need to use her wits to escape before Mark is unknowingly dragged into this plot for revenge. Amy needs to figure out what these forces are planning in their quest for control before it's too late. However, she isn't alone. Some of these crazed characters may be more willing to help her than she'd assume.See no evil.Speak no evil.Hear no evil.





	1. Awakening

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to the story! I've been working on this on Tumblr and have now decided to post it here. It is already close to completion, with a few chapters to go, and hopefully weekly updates. I hope you all enjoy!  
> Remember, this story was planned and started before WKM, and whilst some ideas do fit surpringly well, and may roll over into a sequel, they are not a main plot point.  
> I also don't have an official editing process, so while I like to think it's alright, their may be a few editing issues, like typos.

Amy awoke in a bed she didn’t recognise, with a splitting headache and a desperate need to pee. She tilted her head to look for Mark next to her. He wasn’t there. There was no sign of him having ever been there. Amy sat up, almost collapsing under the pain that followed. She brushed her hands across the back of her head, feeling a slight lump. She groaned, rubbing her face with her hands before making an effort to examine to room around her. She sat in a predominantly white bed, though the covers and pillows had a yellow swirling design of birds and flowers. It would have been pretty, but the possibility that whoever had placed her here was pandering with the bed design was a vaguely uncomfortable feeling. Amy shook her head slightly, she couldn’t assume anything yet. Maybe she was on holiday in a hotel, and she was too tired to remember where she was. That sort of thing happens right?

She looked over the room, glad to feel that the pain in her head had numbed to a slight throbbing. The room was square and predominately white. It was styled like an old mansion, with fancy designs joining the walls together. No windows let in any light, though Amy found a lamp on her bedside table, which she gratefully turned on, letting her eyes adjust. A simple white vase with some fresh yellow flowers sat on the bedside table. Opposite the bed was an antique fireplace - although currently unlit - with two armchairs placed around it. Amy would have continued examining each nook and cranny of the place, but she had another pressing matter. Her bladder. To her right was an offshoot to the room, with two wooden doors. Surely a room this fancy had an en suite! She stood, staggering slightly as her head throbbed. Her shoes had been placed next to the bed, so she slipped them on and headed to the doors. One was locked, though the other did indeed lead to a bathroom, complete with spa, shower and toilets, which Amy used gratefully. Upon relieving her bladder, she took a moment to examine her appearance in the mirror above the marble sink. She had a bad case of bed hair, and was wearing the same clothes she remembered wearing yesterday, a simple white sweater and blue jeans. Well, maybe yesterday, she had no idea how much time had passed. Her clothes proved to her, however, that this was no hotel. Surely she would have changed, and no one just forgets where they are for this long without known amnesia. Plus, Mark was nowhere to be seen. This led Amy to one main conclusion. She’d been kidnapped. There seemed no other explanation. The bump on her head, the amnesia, the unfamiliar place.  
Her heart rate quickened dramatically. Though this realisation led to her being more grateful for the clothes she was wearing. No one had seen her naked body while she was unconscious.

Amy left the bathroom, trying once again on the other door. It seemed thoroughly locked. She walked back into the main bedroom, searching around throughly. She found another door on the other side of the bed, but in led into a simple walk in closet filled with empty coat hangers. She considered using a coat hanger to attempt to open the other door, but decided against it. She doubted that would work anyways. Her ‘kidnapper’ seemed relatively intelligent. All the rooms had been cleared of any objects that could cause damage to anyone. No towels to throw, nor sharp toiletries, or even wood in the fire. Smacking someone over the head with a coat hanger was a pitiful last resort. However, there was a toothbrush, toothpaste, and a hairbrush, which she used to clean herself up. The kidnapper had even provided her with tampons and pads, though this disturbed Amy more than anything. It seemed to imply she’d be here for a while.

Amy must have been pacing that room for half an hour, her mind coming up with horror scenarios, before she heard noise outside. She jerked, her heart pounding and head throbbing. Foot steps approached the door, accompanied by a slight whirring. She couldn’t help but instinctively back into the opposite wall. The lock twisted and the door creaked inwards. Amy’s eyes widened in relief. It was Mark! She rushed forward to him.  
“Oh thank god, Mark!” She grasped his hands. They were as cold as ice, “Do you know where we are?” He scowled at her, and pulled his hands away, placing them stiffly at his side.  
“I am not Mark.” he said monotonously, the word ‘not’ stuttering slightly as it left his lips. Amy pulled back, looking over the man in front of her. They looked like Mark, there was no denying it. They wore a pair of jeans and a blue shirt, though upon closer inspection, Amy saw that the G on their shirt glowed slightly. They wore Mark’s glasses, and their eyes were also tinted a slight red, which shone against the glass.

It couldn’t be…

“Who are you then?” She questioned slowly. ‘Mark’s’ head glanced up, expression neutral, eyes glowing slightly brighter.  
“I am an early experimental prototype of the Google IRL unit. I am designed to answer questions and complete rudimentary tasks. If you have any complaints, please phone-” a screeching static noise erupted from him, causing Amy to flinch back. He never finished his statement, as he returned back to his scowling expression, locking eye contact with Amy. “Did that sufficiently answer your question?” He asked with a slight smirk, seeing Amy’s startled look. She let out a slight, breathy laugh, not out of humour, but shock. She had thought Mark was pranking her, but that glitching was real, and Mark would never kidnap her like this. This had to be some sort of vivid dream. Sure, dreams usually weren’t this vivid, but any explanation made more sense than the robot in front of her. She pinched herself. Nothing happened. Google sighed. “I understand that this must be hard to comprehend Miss Nelson, but I really don’t have time to deal with your questions.” He grasped her hand in a crushing grip, and walked swiftly out the door, which Amy just had time to close behind her.  
“O-Okay-” She was cut of as Google spun around, shoving her into the wall wildly, glitching and stuttering.  
“Don’t say it!” He growled out threateningly, causing Amy to gasp out.  
“I w-was just agreeing…” The robot pulled back, looking her over, though one hand still tightly gripped hers.  
“Oh. My apologies Miss Nelson. However, I must inform you before we continue that the phrase ‘Okay Google’ is banned from this household.”  
“R-Right. Of course, sorry.” She mumbled. She looked around. Straight forward from the bedroom door was a hallway, ending in a door. To her left was a longer hallway, which opened into a larger space in the centre. Google took her down this way hastily, causing her to stumble and trip behind him. He continued to drag her however, so she pulled herself into a standing position, trying not the step on the back of his sneakers. The open space lead to two, large curved staircases on her left, though the right wall was closed off by large, red curtains. She swore she heard music on the other side, though Google gave her no time to investigate as he lead her up the stairs, his joints whirring as he went.  
“This way, Miss Nelson.” She snorted, stumbling up the stairs in his wake.  
“It’s not like I have much of a choice.” She muttered, but if he heard, he made no comment.

Upon reaching the first floor of the stairs, which went on for one more storey, Amy gasped in amazement. A huge room opened out at the the base of the stairs, with a ceiling two storeys high decorated with a huge chandelier. The far walls were covered in tall windows, letting in trickling rays of sunlight. A long, narrow table sat in the centre, with many comfortable-looking chairs surrounding it whilst the sides of the room held several configurations of armchairs, some set up in front of television screens . No one seemed to occupy the space at the moment, however, and Google made a sharp right, leading her down a short hallway, stopping outside a double door on the right. He pushed it open, shoving Amy through, and stepped in after her, closing the door behind him. The room had dark grey wallpapers and white, marble floor. The centre had a rectangle of black armchairs, set on top of a black and white carpet, with a pleasing symmetrical pattern. Google gestured to it.  
“Sit. He will see you shortly.” Amy tensed. Google pointed at the door on the left side of the room, before moving towards it. “I will inform him that you’ve arrived.” And with that Amy was alone, and only then did she notice the faint ringing in her ears. Her blood ran cold, and her body constricted with a crushing sense of terror. If Google was real, did that mean…  
She she ran forwards to a third door ahead of her. It appeared to be made of glass, and looked over a wooden deck. The forest landscape would’ve been beautiful if she weren’t so afraid of what was to come. The door was locked. She considered smashing it, but that would’ve been loud and drawn quick attention. She turned back, noticing a hallway. She moved to run down it, before realising it simply led to a large bathroom. The ringing grew louder. She rushed to the first door desperately, hands clawing at the door handle.

It was unlocked.

Amy took no chances, she sprinted down the hall, back past the central grand room. She glanced over it for exits. The doors in that room all appeared to lead to the deck, an easy way to get cornered. She turned back towards the two, towering staircases. The hallway in between them led to large, wooden double doors. That had to be the exit!

She ran, passing two large open archways on her sides that she didn’t bother to inspect. They would be onto her soon. She tripped on a short stairway leading down to the entrance, and slammed into the door. She tired to open it desperately. It was locked shut. Her heart plummeted, and she sunk to her knees. Of course it was locked. What had she expected? Would she be punished for attempting to run? The lump on the back of her head pounded heavily, accompanied by the loud ringing in her ears. She clawed her weak, shaking hands against her ears. Amy felt sick. Faint. She made a last ditch effort to slam her hands desperately against the smooth wooden doors when she heard footsteps behind her.

 

“The Host thinks that’s a bad idea Miss Nelson.”


	2. Narration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amy Nelson awakens in a manor clueless as to how she arrived there. Soon to discover she has been kidnapped in a scheme by characters she'd presumed to be fictional Soon to discover she is the bargaining chip in a greater plan. Soon to discover that nothing is what it seems, and she is going to need to use her wits to escape before Mark is unknowingly dragged into this plot for revenge. Amy needs to figure out what these forces are planning in their quest for control before it's too late. However, she isn't alone. Some of these crazed characters may be more willing to help her than she'd assume.
> 
> See no evil.  
> Speak no evil.  
> Hear no evil.

“The Host doesn’t want Miss Nelson to fear him. The Host would never hurt her” he murmured in a hushed, yet panicked whisper, and a hand reached out to hold hers. She flinched back, eyes wide. “The Host isn’t sure what to do.” He stuttered, concern clear in his tone, “Can Miss Nelson try breathing like the Host does? Here…” he took Amy’s hands in his own, tightly. “He isn’t coming Miss Nelson, the Host knows he isn’t. Just breathe. Miss Nelson should try counting with the Host, in one…two…” Amy was almost breathing steadily when the Host turned towards the center hallway a few seconds before Google arrived, fuming. When they noticed the Host standing over Amy, however, the robot relaxed slightly. “The Host reassures Miss Nelson that he will talk to Google, and that she can stay here.” With that, he slowly let go of her hands, standing to face Google.

“I see you’ve met Amy, Host.” Google stuttered out. The Host simply inclined his head, once again his hands twisting over themselves.“We have an hour before she needs to go back. I need to go charge, my low battery explains my inability to remember to lock the door.” The robot stated, slurring slightly. Amy hadn’t even thought of the possibility Google could have low charge.

“The Host believes it was for the better. It will give Miss Nelson more time to prepare.” Google just shrugged.

“You can watch her, I will assign another Google to aid you.”

“The Host wonders if you’d be willing to assign Oliver.” Google scowled. 

“I believe Red would be more suitable for this task.”

“The Host believes that Oliver is more bearable.” Host gave a small smile, and tugged at his sleeves. Google looked as frustrated as a robot could, but let out a very fake sigh.

“Fine.” Google tilted his head up, his eyes glowing slightly, before glaring down at the Host once more.

“He’s coming. Wait here with Amy till he gets here, before finding someplace the other alters won’t see her.” And with that, Google marched off, muttering irritably to himself. They were left alone in silence after that. The Host made no attempt to speak with her, instead sitting at the foot of the steps, playing with his hands. Amy got the distinct impression that the Hosts comfort earlier was a very rare occurrence, as well as being embarrassing for her. Not only had she had a break down, she had accepted the Host’s comfort like she would with Mark’s. It was hard to think that they weren’t Mark when knelt there, gently consoling her - as long as she ignored their tendency to talk in the third person. Now, however, with him sitting, narrating quietly to himself, Amy was once again shocked to find that everything about their demeanor was entirely different from Mark’s. Different mannerisms, different way of speaking, different clothes. Despite their appearance, each of these ‘alters’ were entirely different people. She wiped at her face, though the tears had dried to uncomfortable sticky lines. The throbbing in the back of her head caused significant pain, and she was starting to feel nauseous. Whether that was because of her current situation or some other reason, Amy couldn’t tell. With every second that ticked past the Host seemed even more tense and uncomfortable. He continued messing with his coat sleeves and scratching at his arms, though his head stayed turned in Amy’s direction. It was rather disturbing. It felt like an eternity before the yellow Google dubbed ‘Oliver’ made his way down the stairs towards them.

“Hello Miss Nelson! Is it alright if I call you Amy?” They asked, seemingly more pleasant than Blue had been. She nodded slightly, and Oliver’s eyes flashed that same red for a second, before he turned to the silent alter beside him. “Excellent, where are we heading, Host?” The Host stood, adjusting his coat and brushing away invisible dust.

“The Host suggests the tower, as no alters currently reside within it.” Oliver nodded, giving a small smile.

“Lead the way then, as Amy doesn’t know where that is yet, correct?” She shook her head, standing slowly. The Host turned, and walked down to the large spiral staircase. Amy followed quickly after, Oliver taking up the rear with his whirring footsteps. Upon reaching the top of the stairs, Amy took a moment the admire the grand room from above, staring at the gold designs embroidered into the chandelier.

“The Host explains that Miss Nelson doesn’t have time to dawdle, as the other alters may see her.” Amy nods, turning to follow the Host back around the staircase. She took a glance down a balcony that opened to the foyer, but this time she didn’t dawdle, she turned left to follow the alter. The Hosts lack of narration seemed to suggest he was comfortable with these halls. They made a right turn down a hallway, followed by a second right through a door. It opened to a room a fraction smaller than the bedroom she’d awoken in, filled with four main desks, each well organized, with a variety of computer screens adorning each one. This room appeared significantly more modern than the other rooms she’d seen thus far. Oliver answers Amy’s unspoken question. “This is my study, well, the Googles’ study.” He gestured to a desk in the corner, with a yellow lining.

“That one is mine, you get tell by the coloration.” Amy nodded, looking over the different colored desks.

“It’s nice Oliver.” She tried, though it came out of her mouth quieter then she’d hoped. He didn’t seem to mind though.

“I appreciate the compliment to my workplace.” He smiled, though the sentence seemed relatively scripted. The Host continued to the left corner of the room, which opened to a small spiraling staircase. He stopped Oliver from entering. “The Host believes it’s best that Oliver guards the doorway whilst the Host and Miss Nelson continue upward.” Oliver frowned slightly.

“I was assigned to aid you in watching over Amy. If I’m out here, I wouldn’t be able to watch her.” “The Host agrees with Oliver’s statement, yet argues that out here Oliver would be able to stop other alters seeing Amy by blocking the doorway.” Oliver nods.

“Updating Assignment - Stop other alters entering doorway, as it will aid the Host.” He smiles, before positioning himself in the doorway. The Host gestured up the staircase. “The Host offers that Miss Nelson goes before him up to the reading room, the first storey of the tower.” Amy accepted, making her way shakily up the stairs. They opened to a quiet room, lit by natural light seeping in through three main windows. The walls were covered with bookshelves and cabinets, and the center had a variety of brown, worn armchairs.

“These are some of the Hosts best works.” He gestured to the shelves, a hint of pride in his tone. “The Hosts office is located on the next floor of the tower. It is where he writes his books, and translates them to and from Braille. The Host also runs a radio show.” Amy nodded, taking a seat in one of the chairs. The idea of the radio show intrigued her, she’d have to look into it. The room remained silent for a seemingly long period of time. Despite the Hosts skill in storytelling and narration, he seemed very good at creating awkward silences. “The Host would like to ask Miss Nelson a question.” He piped up suddenly, shocking Amy out of her silence. She nodded quickly.

“Of course, ask away!” She smiled, though she was worried it looked rather forced, and was fairly convinced the Host could tell despite his bandaged eyes. He continued regardless.

“The Host wonders if Mark every told Miss Nelson about us. The alters.” Amy froze slightly.

“I mean, yes. I know who you all are.” “The Host elaborates that he means whether or not Mr Fischbach ever told you that we were real.” Amy’s silence was enough of an answer.

“No. He hadn’t.” She whispered slightly. The Host nodded calmly, standing up and wandering over to a bookshelf. He stood over it, muttering to himself. Suddenly, his hands whipped out, sending books toppling to the floor. She stood quickly, backing away.

“Why! How dare he-” he kicked the shelf, though Amy was more surprised by his change to first person then the motion, “I was waiting so long! Hoping he would visit us. Hoping you and the others would come! Doesn’t he know how lonely I-we are?” Blood seeped through the Hosts bandages at an alarming rate, running tracks down his face. “None of the other egos bother the talk to me! I was hoping you would enjoy my company, but now…” he trailed off, turning his blood coated face to look at Amy. She felt a pang in her heart at his pained grimace. His body shook, and his hands reached to touch his face, only now realizing the blood. It had trickled down his neck onto his shirt collar in deep red blotches. He let out a shaky breath. “The Host apologies for his outburst, and assures Miss Nelson it has nothing to do with her.” He sat back down hastily, leaving the scattered books behind him. He appeared rather embarrassed by his outburst, with his hands shaking over his legs and his mouth clamped shut. Amy rushed to grab a box of tissues, moving to clean his face. The Host pushed her hands aside, opting to clean his face himself. The blood had already stained tear-like streaks down his face, though the tissue helped stop it from dripping. The Host sat there, in the armchair, surrounded by blood soaked tissues when his head jerked.

“What is it?” Amy stuttered out quietly, pulled from her pondering of the Hosts words. The Host stared at the stairway in the corner.

“The Host senses that another alter is coming, and suggests that Amy hides.” He stood, some of the tissues falling to the floor as he moved over to a cabinet. “The Host explains in a hushed whisper that this cabinet simply holds rolls of paper, and that Amy could fit.” He twisted open the handle, moving out several large paper rolls and a stray baseball bat - he flinched at that one - and gestured to Amy. She stepped inside and he closed it behind her. Amy couldn’t see anything, but listened closely for the creak of the chair as the Host sat. Footsteps came charging up the stars, echoing across the room, causing Amy’s breath to hitch.

“Host! I heard the yelling, for some reason Oliver tried to stop me seeing you and…” the breathless voice - the same Mark-like voice - paused slightly. “Your bandages, they’re soaked! I just changed them… have you been crying?”

“The Host explains that he was simply reliving memories.”

“Well, I’ll have to get you some new bandages if that’s the case, if you’ll come with me to the…”

“No!” The Host yelled out, before his voice hushed once again, “the Host is not leaving the reading room.”

“So you were yelling at someone then…”

“The Host lies,” a pause “The Host realizes the mistake in his narrating.”

“You only narrate lies when you want to get caught. Let me help help you.” They begged. There was a moment of silence, where the new alter walked around the room. “Those paper rolls have been moved, there’s fresh blood on them, along with the bat, which you never like to be visible.” There was a moment of silence.

“The Host doesn’t understand.”

“The trail you’ve left leads straight to the cabinet.” Amy’s heart rate quickened. She tried desperately to keep her breath silent, hoping the Host would somehow distract the intruder. It had to be an alter who didn’t know Amy was here, but that didn’t mean they weren’t a threat. The Host said nothing as footsteps moved towards her hiding place, a silhouette blocking the slight light between the two doors. “There is blood on the door handle, and the doors themselves are slightly ajar, which means…” The slight creak of the handle was the only warning she got when the two doors swung open, the light blinding her. She felt dizzy, but took her chance to examine the shocked figure before her. “Amy Nelson!?”


	3. Nausea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amy Nelson awakens in a manor clueless as to how she arrived there. Soon to discover she has been kidnapped in a scheme by characters she'd presumed to be fictional Soon to discover she is the bargaining chip in a greater plan. Soon to discover that nothing is what it seems, and she is going to need to use her wits to escape before Mark is unknowingly dragged into this plot for revenge. Amy needs to figure out what these forces are planning in their quest for control before it's too late. However, she isn't alone. Some of these crazed characters may be more willing to help her than she'd assume.
> 
> See no evil.  
> Speak no evil.  
> Hear no evil.

Mark was growing increasingly worried. It had been a full day since he had heard from Amy. He hadn’t seen her, she hadn’t responded to his calls or texts, and nobody else had heard from her.

“I’m sure she’s just gone for a walk with friends or something.” Ethan had reassured him.

“It’s been a whole day.”

“Don't be dramatic! It's been a few hours! Maybe she’s gone on a short trip to the desert and lost track of time, and she doesn’t have a signal to call you on.” Ethan continued, “Like, we had no major recordings planned for the next few days, so she might’ve planned something with her friends. You are quite forgetful, you sure she didn’t tell you anything?”

“Positive. I’m worried about her…” Ethan had slapped him on the back. “Don’t worry dude! If she hasn’t contacted us by tomorrow, we’ll get nervous, but I’m sure it won’t come to that. She’s a grown woman! Maybe your ego drove her away!” Mark laughed despite himself.

“Or maybe you’re too annoying, acne boy!” Ethan gasped. “Ow, my pride! How could you!” They’d laughed, played games, and made chicken dumplings for dinner, but Amy never left Mark’s mind.

Something didn’t feel right…

 

The dizziness and nausea had increased, and before Amy could think to stop herself she collapsed forwards. The figure swiftly caught her, however, moving her gently over into an armchair. It was a very Mark-like gesture, and Amy felt a slight blush grace her cheeks at the thought.

“Well that wasn’t what I expected! I think you have some explaining to do, Host! Why the hell is the Amy Nelson hidden in your writing cabinet!”

“The Host is not allowed to tell the other alters that Miss Nelson is here. He will skin the Host if he finds out the doctor knows!” Amy glanced over at the Host, trying to hold in the contents of her gut. The new alter furrowed his eyebrows.

“Who will skin you if- oh. Right. Well, I can’t just leave you two here.” The alter turned to face Amy, noting her pale, convulsing face. He rushed to the corner, grabbing a bin and removing the lid, before shoving it into her hands. Amy didn’t have time to thank him before she vomited into the bucket.

“I think Miss Nelson needs to go to the infirmary.” Amy continued gagging until there was nothing left in her stomach, the proceeded to spit the foul taste out of her mouth. She was handed a box of tissues, which she took gratefully, cleaning out her nose. “Now that ordeal is over, would you kindly follow me? That is, if there are no other alters around to see?” They turned to the Host, who inclined his head.

“The Host sees no alters on the way to the clinic.” 

“Excellent,” they proclaimed, rubbing their hands together, “Can you walk?” Amy looked up at the expectant alter. This had to be Dr. Iplier. They wore a white coat and pants, with blue scrubs underneath. He had a head mirror, and a stethoscope hung around his neck. She nodded.  
“I think so.”

“One way to find out!” He took the vomit bucket and placed it on the floor flippantly, then proceeded to pull her up. She stumbled slightly, and the doctor helped hold her up. She noted the blue converse he was wearing, questioning if it was safe for a ‘professional’ doctor to wear such things. The Host looked on, narrating the scene to himself.

“The Host assures Dr. Iplier that Miss Nelson was not like this earlier. If she had been, he wouldn’t have put her in the cabinet.” The doctor raised an eyebrow.

“I still don’t see why the cabinet was necessary in the first place, but alas, that is the least of our concerns. I believe we should take the elevator downstairs, so poor Amy here has no need to maneuver down the main stairs. You’ll still have to make the short trip down the tower stairway unfortunately.” Despite Amy feeling more steady on her feet, the doctor kept a solid grip on her arm as he ushered her towards the stairs. “Could you take the bucket? Oliver can carry it if it makes you more comfortable.”

“The Host nods and takes the bucket, carefully making his way down the stairs after Dr.Iplier and Miss Nelson.” Amy was quite glad for the helping hand now, with the throbbing headache leading to continuing dizziness and nausea. When they reached the study, The Host handed the bucket to Oliver, who didn’t seem to mind that he was now holding a bin filled with vomit.

“Could you dispose of that Oliver? We’ll meet you in the infirmary.” Oliver nodded, and the doctor guided Amy out the door, left at the hall, until sure enough, there was an elevator. “Is there anyone in there?” They asked the Host, who shook their head. Satisfied, he called the lift. With a ding, the door slid open and Amy was pulled inside by Dr. Iplier, the Host in tow. There were three buttons; base, one, and two. That explained the lack of windows on the bottom floor, Amy thought, it was underground. The doctor chose floor one, and the doors slid shut. There were a few seconds of silence followed by the doors reopening, and he escorted her out. There were no other alters to be seen.

“Where are the other alters?” She questioned, feeling comfortable that the doctor would answer. He simply shrugged.

“I’m assuming they’re in their rooms. I was in the empty clinic when I decided to stretch my legs. That’s when I heard the Host yelling, and saw Oliver. When I insisted I was there to aid the Host, he let me through.” The Host sighed at that. “I’m guessing he wasn’t meant to.”

“Do all the alters live here?” She asked, looking around the mansion. It seemed plausible, depending on how many were real, and how many were simple characters.

“A decent amount, but not all. Some of the lesser ones wander aimlessly, probably being mistaken for Mark on many an occasion.” They maneuvered down a hall, taking a short cut through the large, hexagonal kitchen, turning right. Dr. Iplier pulled back a blue curtain, revealing a rectangular room set up like an infirmary. The far wall was curved and made of glass, letting in a gracious amount of sunlight. Two doors were positioned on the left and right, and the doctor didn’t wait for Amy to ask. “The left door leads to my medical supply’s, the right my bedroom. Now, take a seat, both of you! I still need to fix those bandages Host, don’t think I’ve forgotten!” He nagged, before scurrying off. It was intriguing watching the alter take control of the situation, collecting a variety of devices and setting them on a metal table. She sat down on the closest bed as he slipped on his glasses, and rolled over a the little table. He knelt in front of Amy. “Make eye contact with me for a sec, try not to blink.” She followed his instructions, and he shined a small torch into both eyes. “Reaction time normal…” He held the torch in his mouth for moment as he unwrapped his stethoscope from around his neck and plugged it into his ears. He put the torch back on the table, held the stethoscope to her heart, and glanced at his watch. Thirty second passed where he counted quietly to himself, before he pulled away. “Heart rate is rather fast, but that’s normal given your current situation.” He wrapped the tool back around his neck, and pulled on a pair of disposable gloves. He felt his hands around the back of her head till his fingers brushed against the lump, causing Amy to flinch. “As I suspected.” He pulled back, “Miss Nelson, I think you may have a mild concussion, nothing that some ice and rest won’t fix! I do, however, have to question how it happened.” He glanced over at the Host expectantly.

“I had to.” He murmured pitifully. The Doctor didn’t even flinch at the change in tense, scowling.

“What do you mean you had to? There is no good reason to hit a lady over the back of the head with a baseball bat!” He snapped, before taking a breath to calm himself, shaking his head. “Sorry, we can discuss this later, let me get some ice.” He rushed over to the supply room, leaving Amy and the Host together in an awkward silence. It should have been more of a shock to discover the Host had been the one to knock her out, yet it really wasn’t. She just dreaded to know what he meant by 'I had to’. Oliver entered the infirmary at the same time the doctor waltzed in, bandages and ice in hand. “Ah! Oliver, I’m guessing our guest will be wanted in the sitting room soon?” Oliver nodded.

“She has ten minutes.” Amy’s heart plummeted in her chest. The doctor handed her some ice wrapped in cloth.

“Hold this over the lump.” He placed the medical bandages on the table. “I’ll change your bandages once Miss Nelson has left, Host, as I presume you don’t want her to see?” The Host inclined his head slightly, and the doctor grabbed some wipes to clean the blood stains off their cheeks. Then, he turned to face Amy once more. “I’m guessing you know who you’re about to meet?” Amy swallowed what felt to be a stone in her throat, but nodded. No one needed to speak his name, his presence hung over the place with a foreboding aura. “Well, I’m sure you know that presentation is key.” He handed her some clean wipes and a mirror, “You don’t want him to know you’ve been crying.” He turned to the Host, now moving to clean the blood of their neck.

Amy had removed the last of her smudged makeup. Her face looked a lot clearer, and no longer had the red tint from her tears. She’d sat there for around five minutes, holding the ice to her head, when the doctor stood, clasping his hands together. “You must go now Miss Nelson. However, I assure you I will send some more ice to you at the next available opportunity. I must act as if I’ve never met you for now, as to avoid suspicion. I hope to re-meet you again shortly.” With a sad smile, the doctor turned back to his other patient, and Oliver escorted her away. Part of her wanted to run back to the infirmary, yelling and screaming for aid, but she didn’t. She walked alongside Oliver in a haze, the tension thick in the air, choking her. Her mind raced with plans and dialogue. She remembered everything Mark had ever mentioned about him. She had to be smart and witty to avoid getting trapped in the snare of manipulation. He was like a spider, if she avoided the web, he couldn’t get to her. She needed to learn his plan. Yet, she also needed to appear uncaring of his presence. That’s how she would get out of this alive - physically and mentally.

Amy entered the sitting room once more, Oliver closing the door behind her. Google Red stood next to the door that entered his room. The room still held the familiar sense of dread, and the ringing seeped through her skull. The sound a piano filtered through walls, a slow, mournful waltz. She drilled her mind continuously. 'He won’t hurt me, he needs me for something, I’m safe’. She collected herself outside his door, before Red swung it open, shoving her in. The door slammed shut behind her with a solid thud, and the piano seized. The following silence was filled with the thundering sound of Amy’s heartbeat and the piercing ringing in her ears. All the plans and comforts in her mind vanished when his head turned to face her, a slight smile gracing his lips. It felt as if an icicle had impaled her heart.

“Ah. Welcome back, Miss Nelson.”


	4. Darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amy Nelson awakens in a manor clueless as to how she arrived there. Soon to discover she has been kidnapped in a scheme by characters she'd presumed to be fictional Soon to discover she is the bargaining chip in a greater plan. Soon to discover that nothing is what it seems, and she is going to need to use her wits to escape before Mark is unknowingly dragged into this plot for revenge. Amy needs to figure out what these forces are planning in their quest for control before it's too late. However, she isn't alone. Some of these crazed characters may be more willing to help her than she'd assume.  
> See no evil.  
> Speak no evil.  
> Hear no evil.

So, this was Dark.

The being sat in front of Amy had no right to look like Mark. The way his gaze made her mind shut down in terror. The way his smirk sent her body shuddering in fear. The way it felt as if his hand had sunk down her throat and grasped her heart. Whatever witty remark she had planned died, her mouth dried up and her lungs made desperate attempts to suck in the cold, thick air. He might as well had walked up to her and put her in a choke hold.

He stood slowly from the piano, adjusting his suit with pale hands. The room was completely grey-scale, but it wasn’t just furniture choice. The monochrome void licked at her shoes like an angry swarm. The man before her was lit by a red and blue veil, which twisted and snapped with his movements. When he took a single step towards her, Amy pushed herself into the door behind her. It would have been shameful, had the predator before her not been so threatening. His gaze held her own with too much intensity as he tilted his head in a sort of morbid curiosity. He licked at his lips, pulling them into a thin line, before rolling his shoulders slightly

“I don’t blame you for running earlier, Amy. It’s a fairly common reaction.” She swallowed, offering a weak nod, her heart hammering. He clapped his hands together, offering a smile. It showed too many teeth, and didn’t reach his eyes. “I suppose you would like to know why you’re here?” Amy went to speak, but clamped her mouth shut. She was starting to think maybe she didn’t want to know. Instinctively, her hand tried the door handle, which was still locked. Dark shook his head slightly at the motion, his entire body jerking to the side in a violent twitch. “Now Amy, you don’t think I’m dumb enough to forget to lock the door? That was Googles’ mistake, not mine.”

“What do you want with me?” She choked out unexpectedly, causing Dark to chuckle slightly. The sound echoed eerily across the room.

“Finally talking, now are we? I’d thought Dr. Iplier had cut out your tongue for a moment there.” Amy’s heart plummeted. “Ah yes, don’t think I don’t know about your encounter with the ‘good’ doctor. Don’t worry dear, I will continue to ignore it if he continues to play the fool. If not however…” Dark’s human shell cracked into a contorted, screaming figure, before regaining its composure. Dark didn’t need to elaborate on his intentions. He took another step closer to her, until a single stride of space laid empty between them. “As to why you’re here, why it’s quite…simple. Mark has been refusing my invitations for him to meet me, not to mention I found out recently he hadn’t even informed you of my existence.” Dark’s shell cracked a little on those words, the ringing deafening. “I’m using you as a bargaining chip currently, though if I do wish to…dispose of you…” Amy tensed up, watching for any sign he was bluffing. There was none, the sadistic smirk twisting his face was genuine.

“If you killed me, there would be hell to pay for it!” She wished she sounded more confident. He closed the space in between them, a cold finger running down her cheek and under her chin, raising her head to look at him.

“I don’t disagree with you there, dear. Have you heard of the tale of the ‘Scorpion and the Frog?’” Her eyebrows furrowed in slight confusion. She’d heard it referenced many times, but never specifically read it. “The scorpion asked for the frogs help to cross a river. When the frog asked, 'How do I know you won’t sting me?’ The scorpion replied that it would doom them both. Halfway across the river, the scorpion stung the frog. When the frog asked why, the scorpion replied…” Dark gave out a sigh, his hot breath clear across Amy’s face, his lips too close to hers for comfort, but he had her pinned. He leaned into her ear. “'It’s in my nature.’” He gave out a breathy laugh at her mortified expression, leaning away from her. “I hope that answers your questions.”

Dark took her hand, to which Amy instinctively pulled away. He scowled, twitching and flickering before grasping her arm. Monochrome tendrils spiralled across her, constricting her. She cried out in pain, but found herself unable to pull away. “I wouldn’t recommend disobeying me Miss Nelson.” He growled, “Some things are worse than death.” He paused, regaining his seemingly calm nature. Amy noted that for a terrifying moment, her body had been the same monochrome colours as his own. “Why don’t we go ask Red for a house tour, darling?” He linked arms with her, before pulling the door open. It seemed to unlock for him and when he clicked his fingers, the door shut behind them. If Red was capable of concern he didn’t show it when their eyes met. The robots gaze lingered on Dark’s arm around hers, before looking to him.

“What would you like me to do now, sir?“ Dark gave his signature half-smile, his head twitching slightly.

"Why, I’d like to give this beautiful lady here the grand tour! Would you care to host it?” For a hopeful moment, Amy thought Red would say no. Their face contorted slightly, glitching. But they forced their expression neutral.

“Of course, sir, I’d love to.” They somehow had the phrase sound more monotonous than anything any other Google had ever said. Dark licked his lips, before giving his best twisted smile.

“Wonderful. We’ll start upstairs. Keep in mind, Red, if we run into any other alters you know who’s to blame…We wouldn’t want to spoil Amy’s tour, would we?” Red shook his head curtly, before turning on his heel and exiting the room. Dark took her along in tow, his arm fastened around her own. This was different from when Google had dragged her along earlier - at least she’d been able to resist. Now Amy was submissive to Dark’s every whim, too scared of the pain that could follow if she disobeyed.

She shut off her mind and attempted to pretend Mark was beside her again.

It didn’t work. 

“This floor is predominantly residential. Each bedroom belongs to an alter, and is equipped with an en suite.” Red began when they reached the top of the stairs, keeping his voice cautiously low to avoid gaining unwanted attention. Though, with the slight ringing of Dark’s presence, the alters would have to be stupid to reveal themselves. He gestured to the four doors that opened on each corner of the stairway. “Ed Edgar,” the door had a poster, offering the price of his supposed son. Several pieces of paper had been pinned over it, suggesting lower and lower prices each time, “Silver Shepard,“ the door was relatively plain, but had small, worn stickers stuck over it in random locations. They looked like something out of a comic, saying things such as 'pow’, 'bang’ and 'whoosh’, “King of the Squirrels,” upon closer inspection, the substance on the doorknob and floor appeared to be dried peanut butter, “and Bim Trimmer.” That one was obvious. It had a gold, glowing star in the centre with his name engraved upon it. Amy smiled at the personality revealed simply by the bedroom doors, but it died when she glanced at the monochromatic being next to her. Dark, who hadn’t removed his arm, appeared as if he couldn’t care less about this tour, but his eyes followed Red with an assessing, malicious glint. He was waiting for the robot to mess up. Red droned on, “The right wing holds a suite which the Googles reside in, myself included.” Amy opened her mouth to ask a question, but it died in her throat. Dark raised an eyebrow at her. It was shameful. Waiting for his permission to ask a simple question. The side of his lip tugged upwards in a smirk.

“You’re allowed to ask questions, dear.” He whispered, inclining his head towards Red. She tensed up, clearing her throat.

“I was just wondering if there’s a difference between the Googles? Besides colour, of course.” She hated the way she stuttered when her eyes made contact with Dark’s intense stare.

“Yes, Miss Nelson. There is a difference. I am well suited for completing general tasks, the brawn if you will, as well as the taking, and sharing of images. For example,…” Red’s eyes flashed a white light like a camera. A moment later, and image of her startled expression, Dark with her tight in his grasp, filled the space in front of Red like it was on an invisible projector, before flickering away. “Green is designed towards location-based tasks. This means he is able to locate individuals on maps using device IP, and work as a high functioning GPS system. He also has more general facts stored on hand, thus meaning he is quicker in answering questions, the brain of operations. Oliver provides social connections between Google prototypes and individuals. He can send emails, live stream, and hold realistic conversations. Blue is the default. The leader. A bit of all of us." 

The tour continued in this prolonged, tense manner. Red had decided they didn’t need to visit the tower or the infirmary again, as Amy had already seen them. He pointed out the main features of the first floor, the library and dining area near the entrance, as well as the grand room in the centre. However, Red’s continuous glances at Dark, followed by the jitters in his speech was becoming more noticeable with each passing room. Dark’s indifferent silence was getting to him. The robot was growing more careless, at one point having to hide them in a linen closet as they waited for an alter to pass. The look Dark threw Red afterward almost sent them into a nervous breakdown - or a short circuit at least. Amy wasn’t the only one who wanted to be dismissed. On the basement floor, Red mentioned that the space behind the red curtain was actually a theatre and stage, complete with dressing rooms. Amy asked him if she could see it, and Dark rolled his eyes, grimacing to himself slightly.

"If you want to get shot on entry due to the sheer surprise of your existence, go right ahead." 

"Wilford’s room is down here.” Red added for clarification. That sparked her curiosity, but at the same time, she was almost as scared of Wilford’s unpredictability as she was of Dark. Almost. Red showed Amy an indoor pool and spa, before leading them back to the guest bedroom. Before she could escape into it, Dark slithered his along her back and around her waist. Amy tensed, but didn’t resist. It was the worst feeling in the world. She almost felt as if she was cheating on Mark for doing this. 

“Now Red, I believe you forgot to mention something?” Red glitched and stuttered, his eyes watching Dark’s carefully.

“The Host resides in the left wing, by himself.” The robot tried, but Dark tutted, shaking his head. What had Dark done to make the robot so scared of him? How was it possible for a robot to fear him?

“We discussed it earlier.” Amy knew that at any point, Dark could have just told her himself. He wanted to watch Red suffer. 

“Miss Nelson is not allowed in the left and right wing without permission?” Dark smiled, and the robot practically collapsed in relief.

“Marvellous, Red. What about leaving?”

“A-All attempts to leave will be in vain, and will be severely punished.” They stuttered, eyeing up Dark for his reaction.

“Excellent.” Dark finally released his grip on her, sending Amy stumbling forwards. He adjusted his suit, wiping away dust, before turning to her with a sad sigh. It almost sounded genuine. “It’s been lovely, but I must return to my work. I hope to see you again shortly, Miss Nelson.” He turned to eye up Red coldly, before nodding. “You’re dismissed.” And with that, Dark turned, making his way back along the hall with clicking footsteps. The ringing faded, and Amy felt as if a weight had been lifted off her. Red assessed her for a moment, before leaving hastily, down a different hallway. Amy locked herself in the guest room by her own accord.

It wasn’t like she was going anywhere.


	5. Preparation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amy Nelson awakens in a manor clueless as to how she arrived there. Soon to discover she has been kidnapped in a scheme by characters she'd presumed to be fictional Soon to discover she is the bargaining chip in a greater plan. Soon to discover that nothing is what it seems, and she is going to need to use her wits to escape before Mark is unknowingly dragged into this plot for revenge. Amy needs to figure out what these forces are planning in their quest for control before it's too late. However, she isn't alone. Some of these crazed characters may be more willing to help her than she'd assume.  
> See no evil.  
> Speak no evil.  
> Hear no evil.

Mark was about to act on one of his stupider ideas.

It was the night Amy had gone missing. He had locked himself in his recording studio in an attempt to use the sound proofing. All his friends had gone home, though they must have shown concern at Amy’s absence by now. He had suspicions on what could’ve happened to her, some more plausible than others. But Mark had inevitably decided the best person to go to get information on his absent girlfriend. He was quite sure he was going to regret this, but he couldn’t think of anyone else to contact. Well, at least anyone who he could actually get information out of.

He dialed the number, holding his breath.

“Hello?”

“Umm, Hi. It’s Mark.”

“Ohoho~! Isn’t this a shocker ladies and gentlemen! I wish I was on air for this! Ready to schedule another interview I presume?” Came the drawled response. Mark flinched at the reference to his previous encounter with the omnipresent sociopath. None of his egos could kill him, he always came back. Plus, even if they did find a way to kill him, they’d presumably all die with him. But the stab wound had been bad enough for him to ‘die’ for a few moments. It was a truly terrifying experience. A black, empty void.

“No, Wilford, I haven’t. I was-“ He was cut off before he could ask his question.

“What a shame, what a shame! My viewers loved you! Almost as much as they love me! And I’m me!” Mark rolled his eyes, but tried to keep his tone placating.

“Yes, I’m sure they loved it.” It was on Mark’s channel after all, “And I may still consider coming back on. But that isn’t why I called you.” Each of his main egos did have contact information, it only appeared to people who’d met them before. Mark had no idea how calls travelled across dimensions without costing a fortune.

“Hmm, now you’ve peaked my curiosity, Mr. Fish-Back!” Mark flinched at the obvious butchering of his last name, “I suppose I can listen to what you have to say…If my schedule isn’t too busy! Lemme check, I’ll be with you in a jiffy!” The sound of flickering papers reached his ears. Mark slouched against the padded recording room walls, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. He knew that Wilford didn’t have a full schedule. There was nothing to put on it, since all his shows relied on Mark’s channel. The journalist only did this because it seemed like what they should be doing. It was in their character. Mark went along with it because it kept them on his side. A gun shot went off, causing Mark to flinch, followed by a scream that sounded disturbingly like his own. A pause. “Looks like it’s your lucky day! I have a small slot in my agenda to humour you! What appears to be the issue?” Mark could practically see Wilford leaning back, sucking on his index finger like he did when he was intrigued. Mark hoped that whichever ego had been shot was alright. He cleared his throat.

“Well, I was wondering if you could find someone for me?”

“Well excuuuuuuse yoooou!” They huffed out in indignation, “I’m not about to delay my activities to be your little helper!” Mark groaned.

“I know you’re omnipresent, Wilford! While in your dimension you can be everywhere and nowhere! You can use it to see anything occurring in the entire world! Therefore, you can find her in a second without technically even moving physically!” Mark could practically feel Wilford squinting.

“And how do you know that?” Mark practically wanted to scream, ‘Because I created you!’, but kept his mouth shut. He had to pander to Wilford’s interests.

“I have my sources…” he divulged. Wilford was always interested in a mystery.

“Well…” Wilford mused, “I usually don’t usually do this, even for my fans.” Mark rolled his eyes, “However, you’ve made an interesting case so far, and I’m intrigued so see how this will all end. Let me ask who exactly you’re looking for? You aren’t a stalker, are you?” Mark heard the scratch of pen on paper.

“No, I’m not! You can scratch that note out right now!” Wilford grumbled to himself. “I’m looking for Amy Nelson.”

“Ah ha! You’ve lost your girlfriend, have you? Isn’t that an interesting story? Do tell more~” There was more pen scratching.

“I can’t tell more if I don’t know where she is.” He tried. Wilford paused.

“I suppose you’re right…Would you like me to find her?” Mark sighed out in relief.

“Yes!” Wilford laughed slightly.

“Alright, alright. Calm your horses.” There was a pause, “I can’t find her.”

“What!?” Wilford sighed.

“Are you deaf? I said I can’t find her!”

“What do you mean you can’t find her! You can find anyone!” Mark paced the room, openly yelling now. “You’re lying!”

“I wish I was Markimoo, I wish I was. I’ve never not been able to find someone before…” Wilford perked up, “Why, this just adds to the mystery! I think Miss Nelson might not be on earth anymore! Maybe it was aliens! The theories are swimming. See ya Mark! I gotta get writing!”

“Will, Wait-“ Silence. He’d hung up.

Mark slammed the phone onto the desk, flopping down into his chair. He rubbed a hand across his face and through his hair. Well, that had been useless. Mark didn’t know what he expected. Mark didn’t know why he’d let Wilford frustrate him so much. He’d been so close to finding her…

Not on earth? Aliens? Bullshit. Unless…

If she wasn’t on earth, could she be in another dimension? Specifically, the ego’s main dimension?

Mark grinned. It was a reach. But perhaps Wilford had been useful after all.

 

 

It had been close to a day, and Amy still hadn’t left the room. Sure, Red had delivered breakfast and lunch – making sure to lock the door this time on his departure. Dr. Iplier had held to his promise, sending Oliver to deliver fresh ice for her head. The swelling had died, the headache was gone, and overall Amy was doing better. Physically, that is. She had still been kidnapped. She was always on edge, whenever there was sound outside, she ran, standing as far from the door as possible. He had thought of the possibility of claiming to be in the bathroom to avoid company but she doubted it would work. The Google’s would most likely be willing to stand there unmoving until she exited instead of leaving. She was sure Dark – the name sent shivers down her spine – would let himself in regardless. Doors simply unlocked for him. Every time she even imagined the ringing her entire body went into melt down, and she couldn’t sleep for longer than an hour without waking up in a cold sweat. Her only social interaction had been a short conversation with Oliver, which Amy was fairly certain Dr. Iplier had forced him to attempt. She missed her friends. She missed her pets. She wished Mark was here. The real Mark. Not all these different copies. She wanted to talk to him, to hear his voice the way he used it. She laid back on the bed and sighed. No tears fell. Why wasn’t she crying? She’d been kidnapped! She was trapped, her friends didn’t know where she was, and she was with a bunch of psychopaths with her boyfriend’s body! Crying was perfectly okay! It was human! Yet no tears had fallen since when she’d first arrived yesterday. Perhaps her body was using it as defense, not letting the alters see her turmoil. Or maybe she was steadily going insane. In the end, it didn’t matter. She might die here, at the hands of a character Mark had created and never told her about.

Amy was starting to wonder how many days would be spent in this room hiding from the other alters when there was movement outside her door. She completed her now familiar routine of backing to the other side of the room, keeping the bed between her and the door. It was Google, complete with his scowling expression.

“It is time for dinner.” He stated. Amy forced a smile.

“Right, well. You can leave the food at the door and I’ll- “

“Dark is requesting you join him and the others in the dining hall.” She felt the dread clutch onto her heart like a weight, pulling it down. She had almost fooled herself into thinking she’d never see him again. It was like she was a fly caught on the edge of the web. Struggling. Almost free. Almost away from this hell. That is, until the spider decides to drag her to the centre, tangling her in a cocoon she can’t escape from. Caught in a snare, until the spider decides to eat her. When it became clear to Google that she had frozen up and wasn’t coming to him willingly, he growled to himself. He marched over to her and Amy played her one card, leaping over the bed and running for the open door. She didn’t get a chance however, as Google predicted her movement, grasping her by the back of her sweater and dragging her back. He was more forceful with his transport this time, pulling her arms behind her back and shoving her along. Amy was sure he was going to break her arms.

He took her straight down the hall from her room, turning right and pushing her through a door.

“It is a dressing room.” He stated, looking her over, “Dark wanted you to dress up, make it formal. He has picked out a few dresses.” Google gestured to the wall. The clothes rack was mostly empty, expect for the ten dresses hanging there, neatly ironed. “Take your pick, and make it fast. They are waiting, I will meet you in the hall.” With that he slammed the door shut, and Amy wanted to scream. She took a moment to pace the room, controlling her breathing. She knew if she wasn’t quick, Google would probably come in and dress her himself – he was a robot, if it completed his objective he couldn’t care less. Plus, Dark would be irritated by the delay, and she wanted him in good standing before she tried to escape. She groaned out, running her hands through her hair. She felt awful submitting to the alters whims, but there was no other way. She had to get out of here. Surely Mark wouldn’t mind if it kept her alive. Dark was right, she was helpless to his command. If she disobeyed him, he could kill her, and Mark wouldn’t know till it was too late. She calmed herself, looking over the dresses. This wasn’t just Dark, it was all the other alters as well. She looked over a short, revealing crimson dress that made her want to vomit. He had chosen it. For her to wear. It probably wasn’t even a case of appeasing himself. He knew it would make her uncomfortable, and he knew it would shock the other alters. All the dresses were different. Different lengths, colours and designs, though they all would fit her. One key factor stood out however. They were all beautiful. All things she would wear in a different scenario. Dresses to be considered attractive, or seductive. As well as this, none of them had pockets, or any place she could hide belongings. They took away any power, making it impossible to defend herself. Knowing the clock was ticking, she chose a black, mid-length dress with swirling branches and flowers of many colours. Little birds decorated them with gorgeous, swirling feather designs. It was stunning, and it looked great on her, but the pandering to her interests in the design made her sick. It was made to accentuate curves, and her slim figure. It was strapless, and revealed to much at the chest. She didn’t have time to overthink it. She found a pair of black heels, and quickly sat herself on a chair in front of a large mirror. The marble sink before her had a variety of makeup products. Time was short so she rushed with some basics; concealer, lipstick, eyeliner. If Dark wanted formal, he would get it. She was going to look great. Hell, maybe now she could get more information looking like this. Amy used a brush to fix her hair, before standing. She paced, reassuring herself, before nearly leaping out of her skin when Google banged on the door. She took a few deep breaths, before heading to the entrance, her heels clicking against marble. She opened the door, glaring at Google.

“Better?” She wasn’t sure where her sudden confidence had come from, and was sure it would die before she even saw Dark. Google smirked.

“Satisfactory.” Before grabbing her arms and pushing her along once more.

They made their way up the stairs and down the main hall. Amy stared longingly at the mansion’s entrance. Even if it had been unlocked, where would she go? Running in heels wasn’t her forte. Plus, she had no idea where she was, she might not even be in Los Angeles anymore. Sure, the time zone appeared to be the same as home, but that could mean anything. It could’ve changed without her even realising. Google made a sharp left turn through an archway which Amy knew led to the dining room. From where she stood, she could see Dark at the head of the table, sneering at her. The faint ringing made her sick.

“Welcome Miss Nelson! So kind of you to join us! You look lovely!” he glanced over her, licking his lips before smiling. Her chest constricted around her lungs. Google shoved her forward, and she stumbled a few feet, catching herself on the chair of the closest alter as she gave way under her heels. “I hope Google won’t mind if you take his place at the table, he doesn’t need to eat.” The robot accepted Dark’s dismissal, turning and heading up the stairs. You could have heard a pin drop at the silence, all the alters gawking up at her. She hated the way their eyes glanced her body over. She reminded herself that none of them were Mark. Just characters. Alters. Her eyes fell to the one in the chair she’d caught herself on, who looked at her with raised eyebrows, and she leapt back, her heart thumping in her chest

“Well whaddya know? Amy Nelson! I need to rewrite that article because this is much more interesting!”


	6. Dinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amy Nelson awakens in a manor clueless as to how she arrived there. Soon to discover she has been kidnapped in a scheme by characters she'd presumed to be fictional Soon to discover she is the bargaining chip in a greater plan. Soon to discover that nothing is what it seems, and she is going to need to use her wits to escape before Mark is unknowingly dragged into this plot for revenge. Amy needs to figure out what these forces are planning in their quest for control before it's too late. However, she isn't alone. Some of these crazed characters may be more willing to help her than she'd assume.  
> See no evil.  
> Speak no evil.  
> Hear no evil.

Amy stared at the eccentric journalist before her as he idly twirled his hair, which was still dyed vibrant pink. He was wearing his classic pale-yellow button up and brown pants, pulled up by pastel pink braces. It was accompanied by his bright pink bowtie and curled moustache, which he fiddled with as his gazed at her in thought. Her attention was pulled away by the screech of a chair on floor. An alter, who Amy presumed to be Bim Trimmer by his suit and glasses, had stood. He was ogling at her, his mouth opening and closing like a fish. His hair was grown out slightly longer, pulled back behind his ears, gracing his neck with dark little waves. It wasn’t ridiculously long like in the past, and Amy remembered it to be like when they’d started dating. She shook her head slightly. When she’d started dating Mark. It took Bim a few moments to realise that no-one else had stood, and his face flushed. There was an awkward moment of silence. He straightened his suit and adjusted his red tie, before sitting, staring at his empty plate intently. Wilford gave a low chuckle.

“You certainly know how to plan a surprise, Darkimoo! When you said a guest was arriving, no one expected the wonderful Miss Nelson!” He gestured to her wildly with – despite the fact the meal hadn’t started yet – knife firmly in hand, causing Amy to flinch. “And look at how you dressed her!” Amy felt her face burn, and she moved hands to cover up slightly. Wilford didn’t seem to think anything was weird about his statement.

“I do my best.” Dark replied flatly, before turning to Amy with a sly grin on his face, gesturing once again to the seat on his left, “Come, take a seat. Let me formally introduce you to everyone.” She slowly made her way over, skin squirming at all the eyes of her. She kept her gaze on the knife held tightly in Wilford’s grasp. She sat in between Dark and Ed Edgar, and she didn’t feel particularly comfortable being near either of them, instead settling to sit rigidly straight in the centre of her seat. Dark began his introductions. “Of course, we have the dazzling Wilford.” The words held slight sarcasm, but Wilford didn’t appear to pick up on it.

“Yours truly!” He drawled, giving a dramatic little bow in his seat. Amy let a slight smile grace her lips. Dark sighed slightly, but continued his introductions.

“Silver Shepard.” The superhero remained silent, still staring at her through the black eyes of his mask. He wore a suit jacket and pants over his costume in some attempt to look formal. He shook his head slightly, pulling himself out of his daze.

“Pleased to meet you, ma’am.”

“Dr. Iplier,” the doctor smiled warmly at her, giving a slight wave. He had ditched his doctors coat surprisingly, wearing a professional deep blue button-up and black pants. “The Host,” Dark continued, one eye on Amy to gauge her reactions.

“The Host inclines his head in greeting.” He was wearing his usual coat, but his bandages had been cleaned up, and he wore a white dress shirt with swirling patterns underneath.

“Ed Edgar.” The man beside her grinned broadly, shoving his hand towards her. She took it awkwardly and he shook it in his constricting grasp. It was quite sweaty, and when she pulled away she rubbed her hand across her dress. He hadn’t made a single effort to dress up. “and Bim Trimmer.” The gameshow host looked up at her. He appeared to have recovered from his previous ordeal, or had at least hidden his humiliation, because he shot her a broad smile.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Amy! Not that I didn’t already know who you are of course!” His confident tone faltered as he gave a slight laugh, adjusting his glasses before glancing at his writhing hands. Dark leaned over to her, taking her hand under the table. She cringed, eyeing him over nervously. Her hand grew cold, and the chill had already started to seep up her arm. Dr. Iplier observed this interaction with a saddened expression, his hands clenching into fists.

“I’m so happy you can finally meet us. Of course, there are many more of us, and The King of the Squirrels is too busy with his kingdom to join us. Now, dinner will be served shortly.” He paused, withdrawing his hand, causing Amy to relax considerably. He fixed his suit, turning to face Wilford. “Before our meal arrives, however, I’d like to ask about that article.” Wilford, who was attempting to balance his knife on his finger, glanced up at Dark, suspiciously. Amy could practically see the cogs turning, deciding whether said article was some important information he shouldn’t give to Dark.

“You wanna know about the article?”

“Yes.”

“The article I mentioned in passing a few minutes ago?”

“Precisely.”

“The one I said I should rewrite?”

“Indeed.”

A pause.

“Are you sure you wanna know?”

“Yes.” Growled Dark, shell cracking slightly. Wilford beamed.

“Okey Dokey! So, Mark called…” Amy jolted, staring at Wilford with wide eyes. Wilford seemed to notice his new audience, because he smiled at her, pointing his knife. “He was looking for you, Miss Nelson! Asked if I could find you.”

“Did you tell him?” She tried to feign a calm attitude. The other alters watched the interaction with bated breath, nervous eyes flicking to Dark, who simply watched on in silence. This excluded the Host, who’d started his quiet narrations. “Where I am, I mean.” Wilford’s brow furrowed.

“No… I searched Amy, I did, but you weren’t on earth!” He flicked the knife in the air, causing her to flinch back, but he somehow caught it. “I wrote a beautiful article on alien abductions, but turns out it was all him.” He pointed the knife at Dark with a raised eyebrow, and the monochrome being offered a tight smile. Amy hid her interest in the article. What did they mean by not on earth?

“I’m sure that was very disappointing, Will. I’m surprised you didn’t think to check the alter dimensions.” Wilford rolled his eyes.

“Well, why would Amy be here?” He questioned, before glancing at her, “I mean, she is…god knows why… she is here…” Wilford began mumbling indistinctly to himself, and Silver took the opportunity to speak up

“So, Mark is here too?” He asked hopefully, causing Amy’s heart to plummet. She looked over at Dark quickly, wagering his reaction, which didn’t go unnoticed by the more observant alters.

“No, he isn’t.”

“Oh, I was hoping to see him.” He lisped, having trouble speaking through his costume, “Haven’t spoken to him since Cyndago disbanded…” Amy felt a pang in her heart.

“I’m sure he’d love to talk to you.” Silver shot up, looking joyful at her words. Dark cleared his throat, twitching his neck slightly.

“I’m sure he would like to love to talk to all of us when he’s ready.” Amy wanted to cut in ‘not you’, but decided considering her current scenario it wasn’t a smart decision. “However, I believe we should start with dinner. Let us make a good impression on Miss Nelson here.” He clapped his hands, and the three remaining Googles entered, a variety of dishes in hands. None of them made eye contact with her, or any of the other alters for that matter. Swiftly a full banquet filled the dining table, and even the alters looked shocked. Ed Edgar rubbed his hands together gleefully. He turned to Amy, tipping his shades down to look at her.

“Now this is a feast!” He hollered, “Usually we all have to fend for ourselves! Have the Googles always been able to do this?” He reached a bare hand out to grab a turkey leg, but Bim slapped him on the shoulder. Ed turned, looking agitated. “What is it show-boy?” Bim looked between Ed and Dark frantically. Ed followed their gaze slowly, seeing Dark observing him expectantly, and he dropped his hand. Only now did he notice the silence in the room. “Oh, right.” Dark smiled stiffly, turning to Amy.

“Our guest should have first serve.” Amy swallowed, nodding, pale faced. She turned to the food. There was a huge variety of many dishes from all different cultures. She noticed a platter filled with an assortment of sushi near her, a pair of serving chopsticks set next to it. She took them, serving herself a roll in the uncomfortable silence. They seemed to expect she’d have first bite, so she did. It was some of the best sushi she’d ever had. She smiled, inclining her head, and Dark gestured to the table. With a loud amount of chatter and clatter, the alters feasted.

Amy didn’t have an appetite. She forced food down in hope it would avert attention from her, although she was relatively convinced she was going to puke it back up later. The alters examined her with varying degrees of subtly, from small glances and smiles to full on stares. Upon closer inspection, they were all quite different – hair being a big giveaway. Obviously, Wilford had the pink, Bim the longer style, Ed the mullet and Dr. Iplier shared the same hair as Mark currently. But there were subtle differences, such as Dark having a slightly longer fringe, and the Host’s hair styled to the centre instead of being parted to the side. The Host was also narrating at an alarming rate, and it looked like he wasn’t going to be eating anytime soon. Dr. Iplier had tried to serve him but with little success. Anytime the Host was seeming to calm, the situation brought him back into his quiet mumbling frenzy. Blood stained his bandages. He wasn’t a social alter, and Dark’s presence beside him wasn’t helping. Amy averted her gaze, troubled by the continuing exchange of the desperate doctor and his patient. Bim, who was pushing his food around his plate, was sneaking glances at her continuously. Eventually he attempted conversation, and she was grateful for the distraction.

“So, what do you do Amy?” he flushed, “I mean, I already know but I’m curious about your opinions on it? You look gorgeous by the way!” He gave out a slight, awkward laugh.

“Thanks.” She tried to act happy at the compliment, “You mean graphic design, Bim?” She asked, peering around Ed – who was inhaling his food – to look at them. They gave a quick nod. “I love it! I’m glad to be able to do it! What about you? Do you do anything besides gameshows?” He gave a toothy smile.

“Of course! I mean, not anymore. But my first job was as a news reporter! It didn’t last long… I wasn’t fired! I quit! It was really weird first day…” He babbled on, his eyes carefully watching for her reaction. “It’s how I discovered I was Bi!” Amy furrowed her brow, looking him over.

“That, sounds like an interesting story.” She said, curious. Dr. Iplier coughed slightly.

“I wouldn’t recommend that story for the dinner table, Bim.” He looked over at Amy, “Trust me.” She nodded slowly, glancing back at Bim with intrigue. The doctor turned back to the Host, who appeared to be trying to tell them something, though no one seemed sure what by how fast he was speaking and how he continued to stop mid-sentence and restart. They looked like they were desperately trying to stop their narration – their voice growing quiet and raspy - but with little success. She hastily turned back to Bim, hoping for a distraction. The gameshow host didn’t have time to continue his conversation when Ed piped up, his mouth full of food.

“That reminds me, on the topic of work…” he swallowed, smearing sauce off his face and onto his hand. A few crumbs stuck in his moustache. “I was wondering about that advertisement I put on the Youtube a while back. Adoptalots? Know the one?” He didn’t give Amy a chance to add her input. “I haven’t got any calls? I think the number might’ve been wrong?”

“Yeah, I don’t know.” She stuttered, trying to remember the video. She gulped at the disturbing thought. “Do you actually have a baby factory?”

“Of course not!” He chortled, “Not yet anyways, that’s the dream plan! I got the blueprints up for it! Still tryin’ to sell my son!” She leaned away from him, before jerking up when she felt Dark’s presence behind her, listening to her attentively. She gave a nervous laugh.

“I’m not interested, by the way! Sorry.” She shoved some more food in her mouth in an attempt to avoid more conversation. Ed mumbled something, but let it go, which Amy was grateful for. She swallowed, noting the two heads of the table staring at her intently, and she offered a forced smile. She didn’t particularly like the attention from either of them, but the other alters seemed preoccupied for a variety of reasons. The journalist looked her over, uninterested in his plate full of outrageously sweet foods.

“I’d love to do an interview.” Wilford began, and she recoiled back into her seat. She didn’t have a chance to reply when Dark clapped his hands, causing her to jump.

“I think that’s enough. Miss Nelson has a big day planned for tomorrow.” Silver Shepard spoke up.

“But we haven’t even had dessert!” A withering look from Dark caused their protest to die off. The monochromatic alter stood, straightening his suit, before dragging Amy up after him. He pulled her towards him, and her body turned to ice, her heart hammering. She was too close, his side pressed against her.

“I’m sure Miss Nelson is very tired. She needs her beauty sleep.” The echo of his voice cascaded through her ears, the ringing giving her a migraine. Before she could react, he dipped her, leaning over and kissing her dead on the mouth. She didn’t resist, she couldn’t. The touch of his lips seeped through her like slivers of ice in her veins, and a few stray tears fell. Her eyes closed in a silent plea, trying to ignore the presence holding her. The moment felt like it lasted forever. He pulled away up and lifted her back to her feet, entertained. His hand graced her cheek, his thumb wiping away the tears. The other alters all stared at the two, with a variety of disbelieving looks. Even the Host had fallen silent, though he was shaking slightly. She stood, quivering, her mouth wide open, words dying in her throat. “Goodnight Amy, Red can take you back to your room.” He acted as if after her dignity hadn’t just been shattered. Like he hadn’t found the perfect way to break her

The robot grabbed her hand, dragging her away, leaving the mortified alters behind. She wanted to scream and cry. She wanted to break down. But she marched on like a machine, matching Red’s manner. The logical side of her brain explained the event away. It was an act, Dark’s attempt to prove his control over her. An attempt to show dominance, put the alters in their place. Power play. Pure manipulation. The rest of her didn’t care about that. She should have resisted, pulled away, attacked him, done anything. She shouldn’t have played victim.

Those were Mark’s lips. How did he use them in a way that made her never want to kiss Mark again?

A few more tears fell. She ignored them. She let herself get heaved into her room, her old sweater and jeans thrown in beside her. The cold numbness slowly faded, the ringing gone. She felt hollow. She sat on the bed running shaky hands through her hair. She screamed. No one came. She cried and hollered. No one cared. She wasn’t even yelling about anything specific. She wanted to scream until it was over. Maybe she could make one of the alters feel bad about trapping her here. Maybe she was giving Dark what he wanted. She didn’t care. Her only emotion was the dread and fear about the ‘big day’ planned for her tomorrow.

She changed out of the dress as quickly as possible, throwing it on the closet floor and closing the door on it. She didn’t want to see it. She removed the makeup, trying to act as if this was all some nightmare. She rushed to the toilet to empty her stomach, coughing and spluttering the remains of her pitiful meal.

Screw beauty sleep.

Amy didn’t sleep that night.


	7. Shopping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amy Nelson awakens in a manor clueless as to how she arrived there. Soon to discover she has been kidnapped in a scheme by characters she'd presumed to be fictional Soon to discover she is the bargaining chip in a greater plan. Soon to discover that nothing is what it seems, and she is going to need to use her wits to escape before Mark is unknowingly dragged into this plot for revenge. Amy needs to figure out what these forces are planning in their quest for control before it's too late. However, she isn't alone. Some of these crazed characters may be more willing to help her than she'd assume.  
> See no evil.  
> Speak no evil.  
> Hear no evil.

Amy sat on the edge of the bed, head in hands. She couldn’t sleep. It had been hours. Her body was weak and desperate for rest and her eyelids were heavy. Yet every time they slid shut, the feeling of his lips on hers made her seize up, eyes wide open once more. It was like he was always there. Like he was slithering in the shadows, out of sight, mocking her. She shivered. Amy had no idea how she was getting out of this mess. She doubted she would find a way out before Mark arrived, and that would give Dark exactly what he wanted. So, she was stuck, wearing the same clothes, eating the same food, waiting for something to happen. She had only one plan. Talk to another alter.

At the dinner, it seemed clear most of the other characters didn’t know Dark’s plan, not even Wilford. She could try to convince one of the more ‘gullible’ ones to let her out, or one of the ones that doesn’t agree with Darks methods - maybe Dr. Iplier? She’d have to be careful not to leave any evidence that the alter had aided her escape, she didn’t want Dark to hurt any of them.

Amy had sat there pulling at her hair, her mind going in tired loops of thought, when someone knocked on the door. Immediately she leapt to her feet, bracing for whatever Dark had planned for now. Her movements were sluggish, and Amy attempted to shake off her exhaustion. She paused. Why had they knocked? Normally they just let themselves in. Amy froze in place, staring down the doorway, waiting for some noise or movement to identify her visitor. There was a second knock, followed by significant silence. Was Dr. Iplier checking up on her?

“Am I allowed in? I mean, if you’re getting changed or something…” They trailed off, “Though, you have no clothes to change into. Unless you’re in the bathroom! Maybe having a shower? Or maybe you’re still asleep, I wouldn’t know…” The voice babbled. It wasn’t the doctor, he was more concise. Was it some form of trick? Some ploy by Dark to break her further? “I can come back later if you’re busy! Well, busy isn’t the right term since you’re locked in a bedroom, but…” Amy tried to let her body relax, sucking in a deep breath. What she was about to do was idiotic, but she couldn’t pass up talking to an alter beside the Googles, or Dark. She walked up to the doorway.

“Come in.” Her voiced wavered slightly, and her head throbbed with fatigue. Instantly the door was unlocked and swung inward, narrowly missing her face.

“Amy!” There stood Bim Trimmer, wearing his signature suit and glasses, “You look…” He squinted sightly, raising his eyebrows, before pulling up a smile. “I mean you always look wonderful! But, well, did you sleep? Like, at all, last night?” Amy let her shoulders slump.

“No.”

“Well, that isn’t good at all! What happened to beauty sleep!” He gestured wildly, concern clear on his face. Amy didn’t get a chance to answer when his gaze flicked to his watch and his eyes widened. “Well, we don’t have time to delay unfortunately! We’ve got a busy day ahead of us!” Amy looked him over cautiously.

“What are we doing?” She hated how tired she sounded, and how it made it hard to think, especially compared to ball of energy in front of her.

“Well…” He paused for effect, his voice taking on its announcer nature, “We’re going clothes shopping!” Amy was taken aback, unable to answer. “You’ve been staying here with only the clothes you’ve arrived in and that gorgeous dress from last night! But I’ve been informed you should have more clothes, and I’m happy to have been assigned take you!” Amy decided in her drained state of mind to try and get Bim’s help.

“Bim, I’m not staying here, I’ve been kidnapped.” She said it carefully, gauging his reaction. The game show host winced.

“Yes, well, I feared that might’ve been the case.” He wringed his hands together, furrowing his brows and biting his lip. “I c-can’t help you Amy.” He cringed. “S-sorry for the- the st-stutter.” He flinched at his voice, trying and failing to compose himself with increasing desperation. His eyes glanced at hers, almost fearfully. He cursed, his eyes watering. She reached an arm out, concerned.

“Bim, it’s alright-" He recoiled, shaking his head.

“No. It’s not! I’m supposed to be confident! If I’m not…” He shuddered, taking a few moments to compose himself, and Amy let him in silence. The character she knew was confident, if not self-centred. What had changed that? Bim continued like nothing had occurred. “You still need new clothes! Come on, we’re going for a trip!” He dragged her out of the room, closing the door behind her. He pulled her down the hall and towards the main entrance, before heading for the right wing. It was different from when Google had escorted her, he seemed ignorant to how forceful he was being. Though it was due to him being more excitable rather than anything more threatening.

The first-floor right wing opened into a large garage. It was massive, there had to be at least six different cars. She goggled at it, and Bim noticed her sudden pause, spinning to face her. “What is it?”

“Are we driving? As in, leaving?” He looked confused.

“Of course? Where else would we get clothes? We’re going out!” he blushed. “Not like, a date of course! Shopping! Going out…shopping.” He offered a nervous smile. Maybe this was her chance to escape. But what would happen to Bim if she did? She decided to go along with it, nodding. “Excellent! Come one, this blue car here!” He waved to it eagerly, and Amy slipped into the passenger seat. She couldn’t believe it, this could be it. She was leaving the mansion. Her heart sunk slightly. If she left on Bim’s watch, how badly would Dark punish him? She shook her head slightly. It didn’t matter, it was her safety over a theoretically fictional character. Guilt seeped through her. She didn’t believe that. A hand waved in front of her face. She turned to see Bim frowning and felt a pang in her heart.

“What?” She tried. He held up his hands in surrender

“Just wondering if you’re okay? I know you’re tired, but you look sad?” He froze, before slapping himself lightly on the head. “Of course you look sad! You’ve been kidnapped! Stupid…” He sighed, but started up the car and opened the garage. Amy marvelled at the mansion from the outside. It was more of a castle, with tall pointed towers and parapets along the balcony walls. A large fountain stood in the centre of the entrance. The land was surround by dense forest, and a small road winded into it. Bim didn’t make any comments about the mansion, clearly having enough social awareness to decide it wasn’t a good idea to comment on the building you’ve been trapped in.

As they drove off into the woods, Amy started to question exactly how long it would take to get to a mall from wherever the hell they were. That is, until the woods suddenly opened out into twisting side streets. She gawked at the revision mirror. The woods were gone, she was back in LA.

“How?” Bim grinned.

“Our dimension leaks into yours! It was opened out into the streets so we could get through to the mall! Anyone who’s invited or knows it exists can enter at any time, if they keep walking and no one can see them! Unfortunately, same goes for leaving the dimension, had to dump us out on a street where no one would see us leave. Might take a bit of manoeuvring to get us to the shops.” He looked pleased at Amy’s awed expression. She wondered what he meant by it had been ‘opened out’ for them. “Us alters have many tricks up our sleeves! Why do you think I was asked to take you?” he asked, pride clear in his voice. She glanced over at him. His eyes were on the road, turning out onto the main road towards the shopping centre. People bustled along the streets and cars honked loudly at the traffic.

“Why were you asked to take me?” She questioned, hoping to get answers out of the enthusiastic gameshow host.

“Well, a lot of us have special ‘gifts’. I just so happen to specialize in illusions! How do you think I get my gameshows so interesting? The power of deception!”

“Does that mean you’ve never killed a contestant?” Bim looked taken aback.

“What? No! That’s Wilford’s thing.” He glanced at her, before returning his eyes to the road, where he was parking, “You thought I was a murderer this whole time? I’m surprised you got into this car next to me!” he chuckled awkwardly as he stopped the car. “Only a little way to the shops from here. But, illusions! That’s why I’m accompanying you, it means no one will be able to see you! I can do all sorts of things! I could make you invisible, or just simple draw attention away from you…sorry about that.” Amy’s heart sank. Bim felt through his pants pockets, before swearing.

“What is it?”

“Forgot my wallet, we’re going to have to go back!” He smiled sheepishly, “Sorry.”

“Can’t you just illusion the money?” Bim looked mortified.

“I’m not a criminal! I thought I just explained that! Again, we’re going to have to go back for the wallet, and I’m sorry.” He apologized too much. Amy shook her head, smiling.

“It’s fine Bim, it’s not going to take long!” She said sweetly, internally realising this could be a chance at escape. The worst part was that Bim lapped it up like a puppy looking for affirmation.

“Right! Of course! Just a quick trip back. No one else needs to know.” The car turned back down into the twisting side streets, turning into the woods and back out front the mansion, not bothering with the garage. The trip was in silence, as Bim made hasty turns, several times being on the brink of an accident. “Okay Amy! Just stay in the car, I’ll grab the wallet.” He slipped out of the car, before dashing down towards the mansion, frequently tripping over himself due to his tight suit. A sly grin made its way across Amy’s lips. Bim didn’t think that he couldn’t lock the car behind him. She could open it from the inside.

Amy waited till Bim had disappeared through the mansion doors before sliding out the car door. She paused for a second to check she couldn’t be seen before sprinting into the woods. The adrenaline cleared out the weariness in her bones like some sort of drug. She turned away from the road – it would be the obvious place to check. Amy dodged and weaved through the tightly packed trees, shoes crunching against the underbrush. She ducked under a particularly low branch, quickly gaining her balance and continuing her mad dash. She ducked under a branch, and over a rock. Under a branch, over a rock. That rock looked suspiciously like the last one. So did the branch she was coming up to now.

“I don’t think all that sprinting’s going to get you anywhere…” A loud, almost nasally voice piped up, causing Amy to flinch and fall onto the undergrowth. She flipped herself over, staring at two figures behind her. Alters. One sat up in the branches, looking down at her quizzically. A substance dripped from his clean-shaven face, which Amy identified as peanut butter. The King of the Squirrels, he wore his cape and crown – a squirrel laying happily atop of it. The other alter, the one whom had spoken, she didn’t recognize. He stood at the base of the tree, rocking back and forward on his heels. He still had Mark’s scruffy beard and hair, and wore a uniform that read – Amy squinted – ‘Sterbox Coffee’. She wondered if the two characters had been there the whole time or if they’d snuck up on her purposely.

“Why not?” She breathed out shakily, looking between the two alters.

“I’m King of the Squirrels!” They chirped happily, causing the other one to sigh. From her distance and position, she still couldn’t read their nametag.

“Mr. Edge-lord locked the place up!” he exclaimed, his voice much louder than what would be considered acceptable. “Not that that’s anything new!” His voice cracked slightly. Amy looked him over cautiously. She went to ask his name, but he was one step ahead of her. He bounded over and, despite the fact she was one the floor, took her hand and shook it wildly. “The name’s Mr. Mesolonley! It rhymes with baloney! That also works as a nickname, or you can call me Mesolonely! Baloney Mesolonely! It rhymes! Think I already mentioned that but it’s good to reiterate!” She nodded frantically, he was still shaking her hand vigorously. When he let go, she sat up, wiping down her jeans. She vaguely remembered this character from some stupid let’s play. Never expected they’d be real too.

“What do you mean ‘locked the place up’?” They furrowed their brow

“Don’t you know? The forest is on loop! No one leaves without permission!” he shouted. “You wanna date me?” Amy took a few steps back.

“What? No, sorry, I’m taken.” She stuttered out. Mesolonely shrugged.

“Alright, if you insist! I know I’m pretty irresistible so if you reconsider!” he yelled. Amy cleared her throat.

“Why are you out here then? I understand King,” she glanced up, watching the alter play with his squirrels. “But why you? Aren’t you a barista? Isn’t there a place for you in the mansion?” They bellowed out a laugh, before looking over Amy’s expression.

“You’re serious? Why would I be out there with all those bigshots? No one remembers me! It’s a miracle King here spends time with me! I was a one off! An accidental! Plus, I don’t wanna deal with Mr. Edgy.” Amy was horrified.

“So you live in the woods?” Mesolonely rolled his eyes.

“You really don’t know anything do you? I work at Sterbox! I’m on leave at the moment! Of course, I can only repeat the same three days on loop but it gives me something to do!” Amy considered the connotations of that. Was every character Mark ever made living out their entire existence on loop in some forgotten dimension? She didn’t get a chance to quiz further when the sound of footsteps crushing through underbrush startled her. A very disgruntled Bim stood in the clearing. His suit was untucked and his tie was loose. His glasses sat askew and his hair stuck in clumps to the sweat on his forehead. The wallet was held firmly in hand. His face exploded with relief.

“Oh th-thank God! Oh G-God. I th-thought I was going- going to be m-murdered.” He was shaking and stuttering, his eyes watering. “Th-They already think I’m use-useless without m-me stuffing up e-everything.” Amy officially felt like the worst person on earth. Mesolonely stood in a confused and unusual silence.

“I’m king of the squirrels.” Informed King, seriously. Bim stared at the barista with pure gratitude in his eyes.

“Y-You found h-her. Thank y-you! D-Dear god thank you!” He ran up to them, pulling them into a hug before spinning to face Amy. “I don’t b-blame you. I really- really don’t! It was m-my fault! Oh g-god If I’d lost y-you.” Amy sighed. There was no use running, she couldn’t get Bim caught now.

“It’s fine Bim. Take a deep breath. No one needs to know this happened. You can take me back to the mansion, forget the clothes…” His eyes widened.

“N-No! We’re still getting the clothes!” His stutter died down as he composed himself. “I have my wallet, I won’t stuff up this time, we can still do it!” He pocketed the wallet and started fixing himself up, tucking in his shirt and running a hand through his hair. He pointed off into the distance. “The car is that way!”

They wandered back in silence, leaving a startled Mr. Mesolonely alone once more. The irony wasn’t lost on Amy. Bim had calmed his breathing a returned his smile. He took her to a variety of shops with great enthusiasm. His act seemed real, yet at this point, Amy was sure it was forced. She bought as little clothing as possible, mostly out of disbelief she was going to trapped much longer.

When they got back to the mansion, it seemed like no one was any wiser to their adventures. Amy was sure, however, that Dark knew. He always knew. It was probably fitting into whatever plan he’d designed. Amy didn’t like being negative, but it was getting harder and harder to be positive. Bim led her back to her room, sadly locking the door behind him. She had a quick shower, changing out of her dirtied clothes into a fresh jumper and jeans. She’d picked longer clothes, feeling uncomfortable in anything else. She flopped down onto the bed and at last her exhaustion pulled her into a restless sleep.


	8. Contact

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amy Nelson awakens in a manor clueless as to how she arrived there. Soon to discover she has been kidnapped in a scheme by characters she'd presumed to be fictional Soon to discover she is the bargaining chip in a greater plan. Soon to discover that nothing is what it seems, and she is going to need to use her wits to escape before Mark is unknowingly dragged into this plot for revenge. Amy needs to figure out what these forces are planning in their quest for control before it's too late. However, she isn't alone. Some of these crazed characters may be more willing to help her than she'd assume.  
> See no evil.  
> Speak no evil.  
> Hear no evil.

Mark’s eyelids drooped heavily against his eyes as he stared intently and his computer. He still wore his pyjamas, and his hair splayed shaggily across his head. The light from the screen illuminated his face, making the bags under his eyes even more prominent. Mark found himself grateful for pre-recorded videos, but he knew that wouldn’t last forever. He had to get Amy back, and he could only think of one way to do it. He sighed rubbing his face, letting his gaze bore into the blank email as if it would write itself.

Dark controlled who entered and leaved the egos dimension. They had been offering Mark an invitation for months to ‘meet the alters’. Mark scoffed. He doubted it would ever be that simple – it was probably some ploy to get Mark killed. But alas, if Mark wanted entrance, he’d have to accept Dark’s offer. There was no other way.

So, Mark continued to glare at the blank email before him. He was yet to think of an intelligent way to accept Dark’s offer – or at least get information out of them. He groaned, slamming his hand on his desk, rapidly blinking away drowsiness. Did it have to be well worded? Giving up, he let his hands move across the keyboard in a tired haze, before leaning back in his chair to admire his handwork.

 

dark

tell me wat th fuc is goin ojn

im sik of yuor shit

 

the 1 and pnly

merkIpliermoo

 

Mark nodded profoundly. Perfect. He gazed over it again, squinting. Maybe he was too tired for this. He shook his head. It would be fine. He contemplated adding ‘you little bitch’, but decided against it. He didn’t want to offend Dark. Not yet anyways, not while he needed information. He attempted to fix some spelling and changed the ending, leaving it with a simple ‘Mark’, before nodding again. It was flawless. He hadn’t mentioned Amy, so Dark would necessarily think he knew anything. It was straight to the point, and didn’t leave room for misunderstanding. He felt like a genius. He was just as sly and clever as Dark himself. Mark yawned, blinking away watery eyes. He really needed sleep.

He hit send. Now to play the waiting game.

Mark stood, stumbling away from the computer. His heart dropped as he was greeted by the dark silence that was the hallway. He was at home currently, he had been all day. He’d called off recording for a break, which had caused concern amongst his friends. He’d told them that they’d been working hard on skits, and that it was good for them to have a break to help create new ideas. Whilst that wasn’t necessarily wrong, it was out of character. Even if he’d asked the others to take a break, he was always working on something. In a way, he was still technically working on something, the others just didn’t know. Getting Amy back. Ever since his conversation with Ethan, he hadn’t brought anything up. He claimed she was out with friends. That he had forgotten. He’d bottled up his worry. They wouldn’t understand it. They’d think he was crazy, ask to call the police to find her.

Mark sighed, his shoulders slumping. It had had only been a few days without her, and he was already lonely. The idea that it was his fault she was gone burrowed into his thoughts like a parasite. Maybe if Mark had thought to tell her his characters were real this would’ve been avoided. Maybe if he’d just accepted Dark’s invitation it wouldn’t have happened. So many maybes with little fact. If his friends knew that every character he played was real, would they trust him still? What if they knew that occasionally his characters replaced him? Would they continue to think of him as a friend? A boyfriend? Mark shook his head, rolling his eyes with a bitter laugh. Late night thoughts. Amy didn’t have to be gone for anxiety to seep in.

Having an entire dimension filled with copies of yourself was certainly a secret that was hard to keep.

Mark received a reply soon after, and read over it with tired eyes.

 

Mark

I understand your confusion with current events and would be happy to bring you up to date. I continue to extend my invitation to come to the alters dimension, as it would be a lot easier to discuss such matters in person. To add to this, the other alters await your arrival with bated breath, and I am sure you too wish to meet them.

I understand we’ve had our differences but I am very much looking towards speaking to you once more. Either come speak to the alters and I, or leave without your wanted information.

Please respond once you’ve made your choice. Think carefully, I’m sure the correct choice is obvious.

Regards,

Dark.

 

Mark scowled at the words illuminated on the screen before him with disgust. He could feel the sarcasm radiating off it. Dark thought he could out-fancy him with his fancy email. Well Mark wasn’t going to accept his stupid offer.

 

dark

look I dont no waht youre playnig at, I no you no stuf an theirs no way im talking to you so noo

 

Mark didn’t think to edit his email, immediately hitting send. His head was throbbing and he felt as if he was going to pass out. There was a long moment before Dark responded.

Mark

Looking at the time I realise you might be too tired to make these decisions. I suggest you go to sleep and spend a day to reconsider my offer.

Regards,

Dark.

 

Mark looked over the message, rolling his eyes. He was perfectly capable of making a decision right now! Dark just didn’t want to accept no for an answer! Mark stood defiantly, pushing his chair back. He tripped over it and collapsed, his head hitting the floor. He attempted to stand but exhaustion washed over him. He flopped against the ground, and let sleep overcome him.

Amy stared out at the never-ending forest that circled the mansion, wind ruffling her hair and causing her to shiver. She stood on the terrace located at the top of the tower, looking out at the gorgeous view. Google had been assigned to watch over her, and she’d asked to go to the tower. The robot had stood for a solid five minutes attempting to calculate something wrong with the request. Upon realising there wasn’t anything, he’d begrudgingly led her towards the tower. They’d passed back through the Google’s study, in which only Green was inside. Green had given Google a questioning look, which had pissed off the robot further.

“I am assigned to Amy and she has requested we go to the tower.” He spat. Amy had never heard a robot speak with such malice, she didn’t get why Google seemed to despise her so much. Green had just nodded, turning back to their desk, which had screens filled with a variety of maps.

“Let me know if you need assistance.” Amy had leaned over to look at Green’s work but Google pulled her back, dragging her up the stairs. They’d passed the reading room – the blood had been cleaned up. She caught a glance at the next floor of the tower, which had the curtains drawn and was filled with a pale blue light coming from the many screens adorning the walls. The Host’s radio room. The mysterious alter was nowhere to be found, and when she’d questioned Google, he’d given some droned response on him being in the left wing. She was pulled up to the terrace where she stared at the endless dimension in which she was trapped. Google stood stiffly at the top of the stairs, glaring at her coldly, his face twisted into a grimace. Amy had spent around an hour up there when another alter came running up the stairs. Google turned to greet them, scowling.

“Trimmer. What are you doing here?” Bim spent a moment gawking at the robot before clearing his throat.

“I just came to see Amy! I was told she was up here.” He leaned to look around Google, giving Amy a little wave when he spotted her.

“Why?” Google interrogated forcefully, causing the gameshow host to flinch back.

“I just wanted to see her! I thought she might enjoy my company.” He glanced at her desperately. Google continued to scrutinise Bim, before turning to face Amy.

“Is this correct?”

“Pardon?” she questioned.

“Do you wish Bim to accompany you?” She nodded vigorously. Bim was a lot better company than the emotionless robot before her. The game show host beamed, and Google resentfully stepped aside.

“Amy! Good to see you again!” He waltzed over, joining her by the tower wall, glancing over the landscape. “It’s a wonderful view isn’t it!” She nodded. He was still wearing his suit, and Amy wondered if he wore one every day. He turned to face her, adjusting his glasses and clasping his hands together. “Miss Nelson, I would like to whole-heartedly apologise for the disaster that was yesterday. I understand that it was all my fault and it will not happen again.” Amy stared at him, he was serious.

“Bim, yesterday wasn’t a disaster, you don’t need to apologise. I caused all the hassle by running away!” Bim flinched, glancing at Google and back at her with wide eyes.

“Don’t say it that loud!” he whisper yelled, which was the equivalent of a regular speaking voice. “Look, you ran because I left the car unlocked. Plus, we were in that scenario in the first place because I forgot my wallet. So just let me apologise and we can move on.”

“I was never stopping you from apologising. It’s over and done with and everything turned out fine.” That was figurative. It turned out alright for Bim, she was still trapped. At least he looked reassured. She walked alongside the balcony of the circular tower, admiring a bird gliding through the sky. It wasn’t any species she recognized, and Amy questioned if entirely new animals existed in this realm. Was every creature out of games Mark had played here too? She snorted, that could lead to some abominations. Bim trailed slightly behind her like an adoring puppy. Amy felt vaguely uncomfortable with his attention. It made sense in a way, he was part of Mark, but that was also the issue. He wasn’t Mark. Her eyes watched the bird fly down towards the fountain and she did a double take, squinting. A figure stood at the base of the fountain. He appeared to be attempting some skateboard tricks on the edge of it, but it clearly wasn’t going well. The figure had fallen over continuously, but it certainly hadn’t stopped their enthusiasm. She nudged Bim. “Who’s that?” Bim trailed his eyes away from her and down to the figure. His eyes brightened.

“It’s Bing!” He said it rather loudly, which caused Google to jerk up. The robot stalked over, shoving Bim aside and glancing down at the fountain. They cursed, their voice shuddering with glitches.

“What’s that pathetic excuse for a software doing back here?” he growled out. Amy flinched back.

“I don’t know…” she paused, “Can I see him?” Google spun to face her, his body glitching and stuttering.

“Absolutely not. The other Googles and I already kicked him out. We don’t need that no-hoper back here. He lowers the intelligence of every lifeform in the vicinity.” Amy furrowed her brow, but Bim spoke up first. He stuttered, causing his body to jerk as he quickly fixed it.

“Well, he’s near the water! We can’t leave him there, if he falls in he’ll short circuit.” Google turned, his glowing eyes boring into Bim’s, causing them to pull back slightly.

“Good. That little failure can trip into his own death.” Venom dripped from the robot’s voice.

“Well I’m not taking no for an answer.” The gameshow host said defiantly, grabbing Amy’s hand and pulling her after him down the stairs. Google roared out in outrage, his entire figure twitching as he stormed after the pair.

“I was assigned to accompany Miss Nelson!”

“Well you asked Miss Nelson if she wanted me to accompany her and she said yes. So guess what I’m doing?” Bim shot back. Google froze, stunned for a moment. The gameshow host had outsmarted them. The robot shook their head, cursing and grumbling as they followed after them. Bim swung the mansion doors open, and Amy noted that they did open for him. He sauntered over to the new robot, still busily attempting to do something on the skateboard. Amy was relatively sure he was doing it wrong. “Bing! Long-time no see!” The robot looked up.

“Ah! Suh dude!” He leapt of the skateboard, stumbling slightly, and fist bumped with Bim. He adjusted his sunglasses, turning to face Amy. “And who might this pretty lady here…be…” He trailed off, and she didn’t need to see his eyes to know he was gawking, his mouth was wide open. “Amy?” he yelped after a moment. She nodded, offering a slight smile.

“Yeah, it’s me.” He stared at her, before offering a fist bump, which she returned. “Yo Bim what’s she doing here…” He trailed off once more, noticing Google standing in the doorway. “Woah it’s a party today! Where’ve you been Googs!” He strolled over, but paused as Google shot up the middle finger.

“Get away from me, you sack of shit.” He muttered with his robotic tone. Bing pulled back, feigning hurt.

“What the @#!% you &#$@!” He shot up the finger, but it blurred out with a censor bar. Bing glanced at it. “@#!$. I hate Safe Search!” He yelled. Google smirked up at him, revelling in his victory. Bim cleared his throat.

“Do you want to come inside?” Bim looked over at him, then Amy, then Google. Bing offered a forced laugh.

“Nah dude! I’m good, just gonna, keep doin’ these rad tricks bruh!” He faltered, glancing over at the mansion. “Plus I, er, well I’m not a coward or anything. But I don’t really wanna go back there, or see him ever again.” Bim flinched, but nodded.

“No, that’s fine dude. I was just wondering. Do stop by more though!” Bing hopped on his skateboard, waving to them as he made his way off jerkily on his skateboard. Amy waved after him with slight bewilderment. They were quite the character. Google spoke up.

“Now, I think we should return back to our objective, which was to keep. Miss. Nelson. Inside. The. Mansion. Trimmer…” Google glowered at the alter, and they shrunk back under their gaze.

“Right. Yes. Come along Amy. It was really nice seeing Bing but we really need to get back inside.” He placed a hand on Amy’s back, escorting her towards the doors. Once they were inside, Google slammed the door shut behind them.

“Where to now Miss Nelson?” The robot droned. She shrugged slightly.

“The tower?” Bim pouted.

“That’s no fun! Come on, let’s go to the theatre! I don’t think Wilford’s there at the moment…” He sauntered away, and Amy forced a smile, following after Bim with Google taking up the rear. Her eye hurt, and she wiped at her face. An eyelash. She blew it off her finger.

She wished someone would come help her soon.


	9. Plotting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amy Nelson awakens in a manor clueless as to how she arrived there. Soon to discover she has been kidnapped in a scheme by characters she'd presumed to be fictional Soon to discover she is the bargaining chip in a greater plan. Soon to discover that nothing is what it seems, and she is going to need to use her wits to escape before Mark is unknowingly dragged into this plot for revenge. Amy needs to figure out what these forces are planning in their quest for control before it's too late. However, she isn't alone. Some of these crazed characters may be more willing to help her than she'd assume.  
> See no evil.  
> Speak no evil.  
> Hear no evil.

Mark awoke cramped with a throbbing headache. Groaning, he sat up, pushing his hair out of his eyes. He was on the floor. Had he seriously fallen asleep on the floor? Mark wiped a drop of drool from his cheek and pulled himself into his chair. After a moment of racking his memory, he groaned again. He’d passed out, after tripping and falling. He wasn’t exactly swelling with pride at this second. Now he needed to figure out what had actually happened and what he’d dreamed up. Had he actually emailed Dark…?

A loud noise caused Mark to leap back and knock his chair over. He might’ve just broken it. His gaze darted to the bench, where his phone screen had lit up. He let his heart rate calm – it had just been his phone vibrating. He felt his face heat up as he untangled himself from the chair, groggily pulling himself into a standing position. He went to answer the text when his ringtone went off causing him to jump. He peeked at the screen. It was Tyler and the time was 11am. Shit. He answered the phone quickly.

“Hey man.” He spoke dazedly.

“Oh, thank god. Did you actually just sleep in this long? Wasn’t the phone next to the bed?” Mark bit his lip in embarrassment.

“Yeah, no. I slept on the floor.”

“Dude. What the 

“Yes Tyler, what the fuck. I am now going to take an official break considering that fact.”

“Mark, that’s fine, seriously. We were more worried that you had died. But…” A pause.

“Yeah?”

“If something was actually wrong, you’d tell us, right?” Mark heart plummeted, but he let on a confident tone. His tired, crackly voice helped make up for any mistakes in his words.

“Of course man, I wouldn’t lie to you. I just didn’t think up a schedule after Amy left with friends. Plus, I haven’t slept well, just a small break and I’ll be back with you guys tomorrow!” The pause was longer and Mark waited with bated breath.

“Sure alright. Just tell me if anything happens. See ya, Mark.”

“Buh-bye!” Mark hung up, letting out a sigh. He’d never even told his childhood friend about the egos. It’s not like it was a recent issue. There was just a lot more of them now. He scrolled down his notifications. So many texts.

Mark, I swear to god if you don’t pick up Ethan and I are gonna drive over there.

Mark cringed slightly. He didn’t like lying to his friends, but he really didn’t have a choice right now. He picked up his chair – the leg was definitely broken. He groaned for the third time that morning, dropping the chair and approaching the computer standing. He had emailed Dark last night, and his messages were about as horrible as he should’ve expected. He sighed. He was actually going to do this.

He was going the accept Dark’s offer.

Amy leaned back in her seat, smiling softly. She’d spent yesterday with Bim and Google in the theatre, and he’d immediately asked her to come back again the next day. It was an impressive room, with a full stage with curtains and a large auditorium. Of course, you needed people to actually work the backstage, and since Google wasn’t going to do it, Bim had resorted to illusions. It was honestly more impressive, he created entire sketches and shows using characters he’d made with his mind. Amy was thankful for the distraction, and the plays were rather good. Google wasn’t having a bar of it. He stood deadpan between the curtains opening into the auditorium, a scowl on his face. She was fairly convinced he hadn’t moved since they’d gotten there, and he certainly didn’t appear to be enjoying anything Bim threw at him. No wonder the gameshow host was so desperate to perform for her if this was his only available audience. She’d been watching these acts for a while when Google suddenly spoke up, stepping to the side.

“Incoming. Might want to duck Trimmer.” It took a moment for these words to process before Bim’s eyes suddenly widened. The illusions flickered away.

“AMY DUCK!” He leapt to the ground and Amy immediately followed suit. Her hands had only just hit the ground when a gunshot shot rang out. A moment of silence where her heart thundered in her ears.

“Mr. Trimmer! My apologies,” came a drawled voice, “I thought some random stranger had broken into my theatre!” Amy risked a peak. It was Wilford. He stood flicking his gun around flippantly, and Amy ducked back behind the red theatre seat.

“Wilford that’s not possible, we live in a different dimension!” Came Bim’s shaky response. He wiped dust from his suit pants and glanced sadly at the bullet hole in the back curtain. “Going to have to replace that again.” Amy risked revealing herself, and Wilford beamed happily.

“Miss Nelson! I was looking for you!” He pointed the gun and she flinched back. He furrowed his brow, but placed the gun in his back pocket. She doubted the safety was on. He glanced over at Bim. “Sorry you have this amateur looking after you.” Bim flushed.

“I heard that.” Came a droned response from Google, and Wilford whirled around. Amy didn’t have time to yell a warning when a gunshot rang out. Google scowled, glancing at his arm. Only now did Amy see the robotic parts under the synthetic flesh. The bullet had impaled itself in the robot’s forearm, causing sparks to fly out. The robot glared up and Wilford, his arm hanging limply. “I’m going to have to fix that again thanks to you, Warfstache.” The journalist just shrugged.

“That’s what happens when you sneak up on people you creepy machine!” He chirped, before spinning to run towards Amy, causing her to take rapid steps backwards. He grasped her arm. “I was wanting that interview Miss Nelson! And we’re in the perfect place!” He gestured wildly with his gun, before pocketing again. Bim shook himself from his gaze.

“No, absolutely not! That is not happening! No, no, no!” Bim leapt of the stage, glaring at Wilford.

“Why not, Mr. Trimmer?” he lisped. Bim gasped, furrowing his brows in disbelief.

“That’s obvious! Nearly anyone you interview dies!” Wilford crossed his arms, clearly offended.

“Die? As if! Not like you’re much better!” Bim flinched, glancing at Amy.

“Of course, I’m better than that! It’s not hard to avoid murdering innocent people!” Wilford furrowed his brows.

“Alright, but one of them asked for it! But they'll be fine, I gave them a few hours! Now Bim can you make the audience for the interview? No show is set without an audience!” Bim gaped, gesturing wildly.

“Since when did I agree to this? And you know I can’t make an entire audience! My illusions aren’t that powerful!”

“I saw you make that entire show with just your illusions! Don’t lie to me!” he drawled, twiddling his pink mustache before violently fiddling with his bowtie.

“It’s c-complicated.” Bim muttered quietly, biting his lip at the stutter. He regained his composure. “I’m not letting you interview Miss Nelson!” Amy snuck away from the argument, noting Google irritably attempting to pull the bullet out of his arm.

“Are they always like this?” Google glanced up at her, rolling his eyes.

“They can go on like this for hours.” He muttered, “Bim usually stands down. But he’s gotten feistier recently – he used to let Wilford shove him around continuously.” The robot fell silent, and Amy took this as ending the conversation. After a minute or so of the two alters bickering, footsteps could be heard.

“I need to speak to Miss Nelson!” Wilford spun and the alter in the doorway ducked out of instinct. A bullet whizzed past. Amy guessed this was a regular occurrence. The alter in the doorway stood, revealing themselves to be none other than Dr. Iplier. They examined the room, noting a few bullet holes instantly. “Did someone get shot?” Google raised a hand and the doctor sighed. “I can’t treat that. Want some tweezers?” The doctor pulled a pair out of his coat pocket and Google snatched them away.

“Can you watch Miss Nelson? I need to fix this mess.” He swung his limp arm, a few sparks flying out. Dr. Iplier nodded.

“Go ahead Google. We’ll be in the clinic when you’re done.” He gestured to Amy and Bim. “Come on!” Wilford moved to follow and the doctor stopped. “Wilford! Would you like to set up the stage while Miss Nelson is gone? Just checking on her concussion! I can take Bim off your hands!” Will didn’t pick up on the attempt to get rid of him. He swept his fluoro pink hair out of his face, shrugging.

“Sure Doc! Just make sure to bring her back!” Dr.Iplier smiled, grasping Amy’s arm.

He pulled her into the hallway and up the stairs towards the clinic. “Of course!” He yelled back as Bim closed the curtains, trailing behind them. He still looked upset from the argument. The doctor turned to Amy. “Don’t worry, I won’t actually, I need you.” Despite his bustling attitude, he would pause occasionally, focusing intently on the silence. Amy suddenly realised he was listening for ringing. He pushed her and Bim into the clinic, closing the hospital-style curtains behind him with force. The doctor turned to Amy. “Something important has come up! It’s about Mark!” Amy froze up slightly, shocked. “Nothing bad, so don’t worry! Very good news actually!” She blinked rapidly.

“What is it?’

“Mark's coming to the mansion! Tomorrow, 11am!” The doctor grinned broadly, clasping his hands together. “Except he’s actually going to arrive at 9!” Amy furrowed her brow slightly, staring in confusion. “We’re going to organise different times! That way I can get you back with Mark safely without Dark ever knowing he was here!”

“You’re helping me leave?” Amy asked, stunned

“Exactly! You don’t deserve to be trapped here with him, I won’t stand for it! I’m a doctor, not a kidnapper!” Bim piped up suddenly, looking nervous.

“W-what if he finds out?” Bim flinched at his stutter, flushing, and the doctor noticed this with a frown, but didn’t comment.

“Then the blames goes to me.”

“And if Miss Nelson does escape?” He turned to her with desperate eyes. “You’ll come back right?”

“Bim! Now is not the time to…”

“Yes.” Amy said firmly, locking eyes with Bim. “I will figure out a way to get you guys away from this hellhole. I just need to get out of it first.” The gameshow host beamed, and the doctor nodded quickly.

“Then it’s official! Oliver has already offered to send the schedule change to Mark. They’ll pretend to be Dark in case this plan does go awry. We can’t have Mark rushing in guns blazing asking to see you. Now, let’s…” That was when the ringing started.

The figure appeared between the curtains, a smile tight upon his lips. The room went dim and cold. All eyes darted to the entrance. Bim physically shrunk down, a whimper leaving his lips.

“Ah, Doctor. You’ve informed Amy of Mark’s arrival tomorrow?”


	10. Confidence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amy Nelson awakens in a manor clueless as to how she arrived there. Soon to discover she has been kidnapped in a scheme by characters she'd presumed to be fictional Soon to discover she is the bargaining chip in a greater plan. Soon to discover that nothing is what it seems, and she is going to need to use her wits to escape before Mark is unknowingly dragged into this plot for revenge. Amy needs to figure out what these forces are planning in their quest for control before it's too late. However, she isn't alone. Some of these crazed characters may be more willing to help her than she'd assume.  
> See no evil.  
> Speak no evil.  
> Hear no evil.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: this chapter contains an attempt at severe self-mutilation and implies emotional abuse. If you still wish to read the chapter, the particular section of harm will have an * before and after. This selected section doesn’t mention anything particularly graphic, just the implications of what could’ve happened. I’m not sure if its triggering but I’m trying to be safe. The emotional abuse is impossible to avoid – it’s for plot and character development. Basically, this chapter is pure angst, as always whenever Dark appears. Hope you can enjoy regardless.

Dr Iplier kept his eyes locked with the monochrome being before him, pulling up his professional, confident façade. Bim, however, was grasping his hands together in a death grip, gaze averted to the floor. Amy could feel him crumple in on himself in a desperate attempt to hide. The doctor answered Dark’s inquiry carefully.

“Yes, Miss Nelson knows of Mark’s arrival tomorrow.” Dark tilted his head, letting his neck crack, before smiling. It was dead, a slight stretch of the lips that never met his eyes.

“Have you informed her of where she will be staying throughout this event?” The voice echoed through the infirmary, and Amy unwillingly flinched back.

“I was getting to that, Sir.” The doctor spoke through gritted teeth, his hands clenching at the fabric of his coat. Dark’s mouth twisted slightly at the sarcasm and anger in the doctor’s tone, leading to a somehow more horrific smile. Their pale grey complexion gave them the appearance of stone, or a dead man being carefully played by an expert puppeteer. Dark waved his hand in a smooth, dismissive gesture, shaking his head slightly.

“No need Doctor, I can take it from here.” He gazed at Amy, his eyes glinting from the shadows. “You will remain in your room, Miss Nelson. I apologise for the inconvenience, I know you must miss Mark very much. You will be allowed to see him soon.” Amy kept her mouth shut, mainly because there was nothing to say, it was a command, not a question. Besides, Dark was yet to show any signs of knowing Dr Iplier’s plan, and she had no intention of bringing his attention to it. “Now Doctor, can I ask you a question?”

Maybe she had spoken too soon.

“What is it?”

“Google was assigned to watch Miss Nelson, yet he isn’t here now. You aren’t talking behind my back now are you, doctor?” Amy tried to hide her distress. Surprisingly, Dr Iplier loosened up, smiling slightly.

“So that’s what’s gotten you worked up! No Dark, I was informing Amy about Mark’s arrival, and checking up on her concussion. Will shot Google again, he’s off repairing himself. He’ll be back shortly.” Dark nodded slowly, assessing the occupants of the room.

“And, it appears Mr Trimmer is also aiding in this endeavour?” Bim whimpered at the mention of his name.

“Yes, he is-”

“Hush now Doctor, let the man speak for himself.” Bim’s eyes shot up fearfully; his body tensed up beside her. “You’re aiding Miss Nelson, Bim?” He nodded frantically.

“Yes, Sir. She was willing for me to aid her and I’ve been assisting Google with his task!” He spoke quickly but still pronounced each word carefully to avoid error. He clasped his sweating hands together, offering a nervous smile. Dark nodded slowly, sensing the man’s unease. Playing with his prey. Amy couldn’t help but feel pity.

“Google allowed this?”

“Yes, Sir.” Bim didn’t mention that he had tricked the robot into it.

“And it’s all going smoothly?” Bim’s gaze flicked to Amy.

“Yes, S-Sir.” He faltered, and immediately he realised his mistake.

“Was that a stutter, Bim?” Dark straightened his suit and stared the man down intently. Amy and Dr Iplier were powerless to do anything.

“N-no S-Sir.” Bim cringed, covering his mouth his hand and muttering desperately. His eyes watered. Dark tutted, shaking his head slightly. The ringing increased.

“Don’t lie to me Bim. You know you can’t be a successful host if you can’t speak clearly. That is what you want to be, yes?” Bim was shaking.

“Yes, S-Sir. I’m s-sorry, Sir. I didn’t m-mean…” He trailed off, gulping. He wiped at his eyes anxiously.

“Sorry doesn’t cut it, Trimmer. You can’t say sorry on stage. How can you help Amy if you can’t speak clearly?” It was rhetorical, Amy didn’t get a chance to respond, it felt as if her mouth had been taped shut. Dark pinched the bridge of his nose in feigned frustration, and Bim lapped it right up. “I’m trying to help you, Bim.”

“I know, Sir I’m s-sorry. L-Let me-” Bim slurred away in hysterics.

“Come here, Bim.” Amy felt her blood turn to ice. Dark’s tone was cold and heartless, and there was no chance for escape now. She watched as Bim’s words died in his throat and his shoulders slumped.

“Sir, please, don’t…” Amy glanced at Dr Iplier, who looked just as mortified. There wasn’t anything they could do. Dark gestured at the floor next to him expectantly, and Bim choked back a sob. He shuffled over in defeat, falling deathly quiet. He stood beside Dark, avoiding eye contact with Amy and the doctor, instead settling his gaze onto his shoes. He was submissive, like Dark’s pet dog, following every command like his life depended on it. Maybe it did. Dark turned to Dr Iplier, smiling mockingly

“I will allow you to finish your check-up alone, Doctor.” Dr Iplier, nodded stiffly, his hands clenched tightly. Dark noted this, his gaze sweeping over the alter with calculating eyes. “Have you taken your medication today?” The doctor froze up, and Amy guarded her expression. She wouldn’t let Dark have the satisfaction of seeing her confusion.

“No.” he growled through gritted teeth, and Dark inclined his head.

“I suspected as much, make sure not to forget. I expect Amy to be in her room by nightfall.” Dark placed his pale hand on Bim shoulder, and she felt her heart clench as the man flinched. The two left, closing the curtains behind them. Their shadows disappeared immediately. The ringing was the only thing to fade away, and the second it was gone crushing relief hit her. It was fleeting, almost immediately replaced with guilt as Bim’s absence seeped in. Amy turned to confront the doctor and found him staring hollowly at the curtains. Before she could speak up, he spun around violently, causing her to leap back. He kicked the hospital bed, rattling out a loud string of curses.

“That fucking…” With a cry of frustration, he slashed out his arms, sending the equipment trolley spinning and clattering down towards the curtain, a few medical tools toppling to the floor. “Couldn’t even fucking stop it. What kind of shitty doctor am I?” After a few more kicks at the bed, he sat down heavily on the mattress, ripping at his hair, growling out blasphemies. A few moments passed where they both sat there, and Amy was unsure of what to say. Then, without a word, Dr Iplier stood, walking over to a sink and pouring himself a glass of water. He opened a cabinet, found the pills Amy assumed to be his ‘medication’ and downed them with the water. He placed the glass in the sink, then proceeded to sit down on the bed once more, looking up at Amy. She took this as her cue to speak.

“What’s going to happen to him?” She asked quietly, and the doctor sighed, rubbing his face. The way his tired eyes regarded her made him look much older than he was.

“I don’t know.” His voice was raspy defeated. Amy could tell by looking at him that this was a situation the doctor had gone through many times before. Watching his patients and friends taken away in front of him, before being left to pick up the pieces. She already had some suspicions about what the medication was for. “I’ve known something was wrong for the longest time. If it offers any reassurance, I doubt Dark will injure him. He doesn’t like getting his hands dirty, and there’s no need for him to.” What was worse was the way the doctor regarded her. He was tired and miserable, yet he was always looking at her. Always accessing her condition. Always making sure she was alright. He wasn’t considering himself. 

“When did this start?” She realised that was quite vague, “I mean, when did Dark start treating Bim like this?” He leaned back, scratching at his slight beard.

“I remember every alter that’s ever appeared. I should anyway, I’ve given them all a medical record. Mr Bim Trimmer first arrived on the 10th of December 2014, one of the later ones. He was a bustling happy young man, if not a bit egotistical. I’d found him a bit too energetic and one-track minded for my tastes, that was until he first appeared at my clinic one night.” A small smile graced Dr Iplier’s lips, and it somehow made him look even sadder. “He been utterly distraught, said he’d thought his heart had been broken. It was when Bim had first realised that Matthias had used him to get a job and had never really loved him. I think it was then that I realised there was more to his character than just ego. It was when I realised he was a person too. It wasn’t much later when he suddenly disappeared.”

“Why?” The doctor observed her solemnly.

“It didn’t take long for the fans to forget about him, and Dark saw no use for him. Bim left for the forest like every other forgotten alter. It hit him harder than any of the others, he was designed to be confident and egotistical. Bim didn’t take everyone forgetting him well. Even Mark had forgotten him.”

“That’s awful.” And Amy meant it. She couldn’t have known this was happening. She wondered if Mark had even known just how many of his characters were suffering. If he had, would he have tried to stop it? Dr Iplier nodded slowly.

“We were all being forgotten, slowly and steadily the alters were becoming no more. That is until Dark couldn’t stand it any longer. He and Wilford were the strongest of all of us, and when they asked for Bim’s abilities, he had leapt at the opportunity. Dark hadn’t needed any manipulation to get Bim on his side. Sometimes, I think Dark just relishes in breaking people. I can’t even imagine what goes through that monster’s head as he leaves Bim slowly shattering apart. He’s made Bim so reliant on his opinion that he’ll believe anything he says. Not long now before Bim truly loses everything he once stood for. He cares about you a lot Amy, and that’s saying something. He’s scared of everyone else, even me. He’s thrown all his hope and trust at Dark, and I have to sit and watch as it gets sucked away, turning the once optimistic young man into a hollow shell.” The doctor didn’t even seem to register the rant that had left his lips as he wiped his watering eyes, sighing. “I’m sick of watching everyone break around me, and now you’ve been dragged into it as well. If you wish you can go back to your room. Try and avoid the theatre, though Wilford’s probably already forgotten whatever he’d had planned.” Amy shook her head sternly, eyeing the doctor down.

“I’m waiting here with you, Bim will be back, right?” The doctor shrugged.

“I don’t know. I just hope that he’s smart enough to know that if he’s being hurt, I’m willing to treat him no questions asked. Though, he’s got too much pride to admit to anything, even if he’s bad at hiding his pain.” The doctor looked over at Amy carefully. “If you have any more questions I’m willing to answer.”

“Is the plan still going again?” A nod.

“Oliver’s already been rigged to send the email next time Mark accesses his computer. Though, as you now know, you’ll have to stay in your room.” Amy thought for a moment.

“Do you know where the Host’s been?” A shrug.

“I understand that you wouldn’t know this, but it’s rare for the Host to leave his wing. I’ve been over the change his bandages, but other than that I leave him alone, as do the others. He doesn’t like disturbances or loud noises. He just locks himself in and writes, as well as hosting his radio show. He doesn’t eat, and I’d bet he doesn’t sleep. It isn’t healthy, but all my attempts to stop it have failed.” 

(* to the end.)

They’d only been talking like this for a little while longer when Bim suddenly burst into the room. His face was red and shone with tears. He tossed his suit jacket to the side and with wild eyes dashed for the equipment trolley. Dr Iplier immediately jumped to his feet, but Amy got there first. She managed to restrain Bim, who was grasping desperately towards the various medical equipment positioned on the surface. The doctor quickly pushed the trolley away.

“Let go of me! Please, I have to…” The doctor held up his hands placatingly.

“Bim, calm down. Explain to me what’s going on.” Bim shook his head wildly, still attempting to escape Amy’s hold.

“I c-can’t! You wouldn’t let me!” The room started to twist and morph around them. It was as if time had sped up, the room slowly turning decrepit and decaying as roots seeped through the walls and twisted around the furniture. Dirt and dust built up, leading to growth spreading out from the floors. Amy glanced around in awe.

“What’s happening?”

“Amy, it’s just Bim’s illusions! Keep hold of-“

It was too late.

Bim broke free of her loosened grasp and grasped for the tools that had been scattered across the floor in the doctor’s earlier outburst. He fell the floor, his glasses snapping as they fell from his face and were crushed under his writhing form. The man’s hand found a scalpel. Amy reached down, only to have her palm sliced with the blade, causing her to stagger back. She held one hand tightly over the other to stem the blood flow, hissing from the sting. Dr Iplier grabbed Bim from behind, pulling him back. The scalpel slashed at Bim’s mouth, and the doctor quickly grabbed his hand, although not before the blade reached Bim’s lip. Blood trickled down his chin and stained Bim’s white dress shirt. 

“Bim, please. Take a few breaths. Try to explain what happened ok?” Amy stood frozen, watching the as Bim broke, tears mixing with the blood. The scalpel hit the floor with a clang. He spat out a mouthful of blood. The room continued to crumble and decay.

“I c-can’t st-stutter if I don’t h-have a tongue…” The doctor’s eyes widened. They shook their head in disbelief.

“Bim, what did he say to you?”

“The tr-truth. I’m use-useless. I can’t d-do my j-job properly, I’m a s-stupid sh-shitty alter that’s b-been for-forgotten…” he splattered out more blood. “I haven-haven’t listened t-to any of h-his advice, I’m n-never going to be a g-game show h-host…”

“Bim, the entire fan base loves you. Have you not checked social media?” Bim furrowed his brow.

“D-Dark won’t let me. He s-says it’s to p-protect m-me.” Dr Iplier sighed.

“He’s lying Bim. I’ll have to show you some time. Here, let’s get that lip patched up, come on.” He hoisted Bim up, pulling him into a sitting position on the nearest bed. “What happened to your jacket?”

“I r-ripped it. It’s n-not good enough. I’m going t-to get another, maybe a b-better tie…”

“Bim, your clothes are fine. What we need to get you is a new pair of glasses.” Amy finally managed to catch the doctors eye, glancing at her bleeding hand desperately. His eyes widened. “Alright Amy, let me get you a band-aid. Actually, bandages might be better for that…” Suddenly, all the illusions flickered away as Bim made eye-contact with her. It seemed he’d only just realised she was there. His eyes trailed down to her bleeding palm.

“A-Amy I d-didn’t see you…” The alter started shaking, “I swear I did-didn’t, I’m so, s-so sorry…”

“Bim, it’s fine, look.” She gestured with her free hand as the doctor wrapped her wound with bandages. “Nothing a few bandages won’t fix. We need to look at that lip…” Bim flinched, a hand wiping at the blood, only causing more to smear across his face. They winced at the pain, averting their gaze away from her in shame. Dr Iplier looked him over, before eyeing Amy seriously.

“It might be best if you leave. You’ll be going tomorrow, I need a moment with Bim.” Amy nodded slowly, numbly making her way out of the room. She took one last glance the doctor kneeled in front of his crying patient. This wasn’t about her safety anymore, she realised as she snuck back down to her room, keeping an eye out for Wilford. This was about all the other alters as well.

She had to get them out of here.


	11. Nightmares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amy Nelson awakens in a manor clueless as to how she arrived there. Soon to discover she has been kidnapped in a scheme by characters she'd presumed to be fictional Soon to discover she is the bargaining chip in a greater plan. Soon to discover that nothing is what it seems, and she is going to need to use her wits to escape before Mark is unknowingly dragged into this plot for revenge. Amy needs to figure out what these forces are planning in their quest for control before it's too late. However, she isn't alone. Some of these crazed characters may be more willing to help her than she'd assume.  
> See no evil.  
> Speak no evil.  
> Hear no evil.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter contains some blood and gore and general angst.

Amy spent that night in a haze. She had assumed she’d be unable to sleep, but after so many days of such little sleep, she eventually crashed. Twisted ideas of escape bled into her dreams, leaving her tossing and turning. The plan had gone as hoped, and she was running through the woods with Mark in a desperate attempt at freedom. The trees thinned out, and relief crashed through her. She had left the alter’s dimension, she was safe. But something wasn’t right. It felt as if ice had seeped into her veins and the hairs on the back of her neck stood up. It was dark, and she didn’t know where she was. Amy reached to grasp Mark’s cold hand, holding onto it like a lifeline. She was in a bedroom, and it seemed vaguely familiar. Spirals stairs moved upwards in the corner, and a grand piano stood proudly in front of her. It was monochrome, and the realization hit Amy like a blow. This was Dark’s room…

“Mark…” She turned to her boyfriend, and her heart stopped. A coy smile graced his pale lips. The ringing started again. Always the ringing.

“What’s wrong, dear?” It was him. His gaze regarded her, seemingly amused. She pulled away desperately, but he wouldn’t let go. “Come on Amy, what’s wrong? Don’t you love me anymore? You certainly didn’t seem to mind my kiss. I mean, you didn’t pull away, did you?” He leaned in, his breath on her ear. “What would Mark think?” She screamed, and his spare hand quickly shushed her, causing the sound to die in her throat. Her voice was gone, but she mouthed frantic words

“Please. Don't…” He tutted. A hand twirled her hair, before moving down her cheek.

“We have guests, dear. We don’t want to frighten them with your noise.” He contemplated her with mocking sympathy as silent tears ran down her face. He wiped them away with his thumb, though his other hand still held her in a painful grip. “Don’t cry dear, please don’t. Not yet. You haven’t even seen what I have in store for you.” He pulled her into a forced embrace, planting a cold kiss on her forehead. A hand traced down her neck and spine, before pulling away. She trembled but found herself unable to retaliate. She was frozen, and it was terrifying. “Come with me, up the tower.” It wasn’t a choice, he dragged her along beside him up the spiral staircase. The ringing burned her brain, her heart pounded in her ears. She couldn’t escape. She never would. Mark wasn’t here. It was always Dark.

When they reached the top, her heart plummeted in her chest. He let go of her, but he stood in the doorway, she couldn’t leave. In front of her, three alters were pinned to the wall. On the left was the Host, eyes covered by his bandages, desperate words leaving his mouth. He spluttered as the blood tears seeping down his face dripped onto his lips. Bloody spit dribbled down his chin as he waited there, unmoving, accepting defeat. Next to him was Dr. Iplier. At first, nothing seemed different as she watched the enraged doctor struggle vainly at his restraint. But then she saw it. His ears were mutilated and bloody. She clicked her fingers experimentally. He was deaf, in his frantic movements and curses he hadn’t even noticed them enter. Hadn’t heard the ringing. She stared at the last alter. Bim. His eyes were wide with fear as he stared at her desperately. He yelled out pleadingly, but no sound came. His mouth was bloodied. His tongue was gone.

Strong arms wrapped around her and she tensed up. She couldn’t think of what to do. She couldn’t think of how to save them. How to reassure them they’d be alright. The cold metal of gun touched her skin, the weight nearly causing her to drop it from her frail, shaking hands. Dark held it firmly, however, a low chuckle reaching her ears

“These three have been causing a lot of hassle. I tried to help them, Amy. Stop them seeing things they fear. Stop them hearing things that sadden them. Stop them saying things they might regret…” He sighed, adjusting her grip on the pistol. “They don’t understand that they’re disposable, and I wish to prove it. I’ll let you leave Miss Nelson, but you must choose who to dispose of.” He moved his hands, and Amy pulled away quickly. She couldn’t do this. Freedom wasn’t worth this. She turned to face Dark and pointed the gun at her head. For once, he looked stunned. Fearful even. The three alters struggled behind her. “Amy…”

The bang woke her.

For a moment, she thought she might’ve been dead until her surroundings caught up with her. She was in the guest room she’d come to call home, and for once, that was a relief. She’d been dreaming. Mark was still coming, and the alters were fine. Though that quickly led to Amy wondering if the dream actually meant anything.

Clearly, the bang had been knocking on the door, for Dr. Iplier poked his head into the room. His ears were still there, perfectly fine. No blood. The image of him screaming and struggling flashed through her mind. He gave a slight smile, though it faltered slightly as he examined her. He stepped into the room quietly.

“Well, at least it looks like you got some sleep.” She nodded, her hand wiping at her face. Tears. It’s not like she could hide her distress from him anyway. He regarded her sadly, before gesturing towards the bathroom. “Feel free to get changed into something more presentable than your pajamas. I’ll explain everything when you’re done.” He placed a laptop, which she had originally assumed to be his clipboard, onto the coffee table, seating himself on one of the available chairs. She pulled herself out of bed, calming her heart rate. She took a second glance at the doctor’s ears, just to confirm they were still there. He seemed to note her concern but didn’t comment. Her gaze skimmed the doorway, and she jolted back when she noticed the figure standing there. She relaxed as she realized it was just Oliver, and the robot offered a pleasant smile. Of course, he was always smiling, as it was a design choice to make him more approachable. In reality, the fact he was almost always smiling regardless of the situation was just unnerving. She offered him a weak nod, before moving to the walk-in closet filled with the findings of her shopping trip with Bim. Thinking of him immediately soured her already dull mood, the memories from the vivid nightmare making it worse. She pushed the thoughts aside, examining her clothing options. She had been disturbed previously by the realization that some of the clothes had been disappearing, normally the used ones. She’d assumed that one of the Google’s had taken them during the night for washing, which was already vaguely unsettling, yet none of them had come back. She wasn’t sure where they were going, but that was of little concern now. It wasn’t like she was going to be around much longer. Amy grabbed a simple outfit, a loose sweater, and shorts, realizing she would probably have to run through the woods again anyways. This wasn’t a fashion show, it was an escape attempt.

Amy changed in the bathroom, not bothering with anything fancy. She tied back her hair to keep it out of the way, noting that it would need to be re-dyed once she got out. She shifted the bandages on her hand. It seemed the bleeding had stopped, although the bandages were stained significantly. She shakes it off, she'll be leaving soon, she could fix her hand up later. As she sat in the chair opposite the doctor, she examined his handiwork. A laptop had been set up, along with a pair of earphones. She noted with a slight smirk the Chrome branding on the laptop, she doubted anything in this household wasn’t owned by Google. Dr. Iplier was currently standing over Oliver. The robot had powered down, she could tell by his dimmed shirt logo and eyes, and a small panel had been opened on the back of their neck. Dr. Iplier noticed his audience with a slight grin.

“I’m generally not the technological genius, but I don’t think it’s safe to ask for the other Google’s help with this. I think Dark has them wrapped around his finger.” She noted how tentatively he spoke Dark’s name, and he was still clearly listening out for ringing, as he asked her to keep quiet. She had to keep reminding herself that he wasn’t deaf. That the content of her nightmare wasn’t a reality. That Dark hadn’t done any of those things. That she hadn’t shot herself. She shook herself out of her thoughts, continuing to watch Dr. Iplier’s work. He had plugged what appeared to be a USB into Oliver’s neck and was now waiting for the little holographic progress bar to finish loading. When it was done, he selected a few options, and the display disappeared. He removed the USB and closed the panel on Oliver’s neck, causing the robots head to return to neutral position, staring blankly at the wall. A faint whirring could be heard. “He’ll be back online in a moment, we’re just lucky he’s willing to help us. Not as corrupt as the others. Not yet anyway.” He seemed to be talking more to himself than her. He inserted the USB into the computer, staring intently at the screen.

“Can I ask what this is? Mark’s here in an hour, right? I thought I was escaping not hacking into the Matrix.” She gestured expectantly at the weird set up, and Dr. Iplier laughed. She couldn’t help but feel grateful for the response, just confirming in her tired mind that he really wasn’t deaf.

“This is important, Miss Nelson, don’t you worry! I can’t have you sitting down here fretting that something’s gone wrong, so Oliver here has volunteered to be your eyes and ears!” He spun the laptop to face her, enlarging a tab that showed a black screen.

“Wow. Innovative.” She snorted, eyeing the blank screen sceptically. Dr. Iplier rolled his eyes.

“It’s not on yet! Wait till Oliver powers up again!” A few moments passed before the G on Oliver’s shirt lit up. The black screen flickered to a perfect image of the wall. Amy immediately realized it was video footage from the robot’s perspective. “See, now you can watch everything like a live-stream! It was Oliver’s suggestion. Your eyes and ears!” Pride was evident in his tone as he wiggled the earbuds at Amy, before tossing them onto the table in front of her, letting them clatter against the glass surface. Oliver turned to face her, and she looked at her image on the laptop, impressed.

“I hope it is sufficient, Amy.” The robot stated. She nodded, smiling.

“It’s perfect. Thank you, Oliver.” Dr. Iplier suddenly furrowed his brow.

“Oliver, what’s the time?” Amy noted that technically he didn’t force them to answer, as by not using the phrase ‘Okay Google.’ She wondered if Dark used it. Or if he ever really needed to.

“It is currently 8:48.” The doctor’s eyes widened.

“Right, well we best be on our way. I want to be there to greet Mark first. Oh, wait! One more thing!” He handed Amy a phone, which she immediately recognized to be her own. “It doesn’t have a connection and please don’t try to use data. The other’s might be able to trace it back to you. Wait till you get out of here before turning it on!” She nodded, pocketing it.

“Thank you, Doc, I swear I’ll come back for you guys.” He smiled shaking his head.

“I wouldn’t recommend that Miss Nelson, but thank you for trying.” She couldn’t help herself, she rushed over and hugged him. Sure, in a way, he was one of her kidnappers, but he’d been nothing but kind. He’d done nothing but try to free her. Dr. Iplier seemed stunned too, but he still returned it. He regarded her warmly. “Keep yourself safe, Amy.” She gave Oliver a slight hug too, though it was a bit strange. He was mechanical, and feeling something that appeared to be a human vibrate and whirr was vaguely unnerving. A smile graced her lips. Mark wouldn’t like the Googles, they were too much like the living mannequins he feared so much. She pulled away, and the pair left. Amy was left staring at the computer screen, the clock slowly ticking to 9 am.

As she waited, her thoughts immediately went to the other alters. She wouldn’t get to say goodbye to them like she had with Dr. Iplier. Her mind immediately went to Bim, and guilt settled in. She’d caused him so much damage. Partially, it was his reckless behavior due to his apparent fascination with her. But no one deserves to be treated so horribly, and no one deserved to be convinced to hate themselves. In a way, she had been no better than Dark. In the beginning, her relationship with Bim had been an escape plan. She’d been manipulating him. She wondered if it counted as Stockholm Syndrome that she liked him now, even if it was platonic. Though, she doubted it was platonic on his end.

As it grew even closer to 9, Amy plugged in her earbuds and waited, feeling the tension crackling through the air. She watched through Oliver’s eyes the mansion entrance. A few minutes late, someone knocked on the door, and Oliver opened it. Amy’s heart fluttered in her chest. There, awkwardly, stood Mark, wearing a simple white t-shirt and pants. Somehow, despite being surrounded by clones of him for a week, he was somehow just Mark. The real one. She wished there was some way to tell him that she was there as he eyed the robot suspiciously. It was weird, watching him make eye contact with her knowing that he wasn’t actually seeing her. She saw Oliver’s hand gesture him inside, and Mark shuffled through the doorway, eyeing the entrance hallway with slight awe. Dr. Iplier made his way down to Mark, smiling. He extended out a hand, which he politely shook. Amy heard their words through her earbuds as if she was actually there. It seemed the Google’s ears included binaural audio.

“Mark! A pleasure to finally meet in person!” Mark nodded, offering a smile.

“Same to you, I assume you’re Dr. Iplier?” The doctor seemed to notice Mark’s slightly worried expression.

“Don’t worry, I’m quite sure I’m not like what you remember.” Mark looked around again, eyes flicking back to Oliver. Amy was quite right in her assumption that he’d be unnerved by the robot, though he seemed disturbed in general by the clones of himself, which was logical. His gaze flicked down to the hallway, and Amy knew who he was waiting for. Mark cleared his throat.

“It’s, uh, a nice place you got here.” The doctor smiled, but it seemed forced.

“Look, Mark. I need to get to the point. Can you follow…” He trailed off as he heard footsteps down the hall. Amy stiffened. Dark made his way down the stairs, a slight smirk gracing his lips. Mark took an involuntary step back.

“Ah, doctor. I’m glad you’ve already greeted our guest.” His voice echoed on different planes, the ringing and creaking painful in her ears. He turned to face Mark, his entire figure twitching and screaming before quickly regaining its composure. An attempt to hide his rage at his counterpart. “Mr. Fischbach, my apologies. It seems there was an issue with the scheduling.” The wrath that fuelled those words made Amy flinch, along with the doctor. “The other egos aren’t prepared for your arrival. However, fret not. I can still give the tour. We just might need to reschedule to introductions to a later date.” Mark nodded slowly.

“Of course.” He managed, though the prospect of spending time with Dark, possibly alone, seemed to frighten him. Dark offered a smile that looked more like a grimace, straightening his suit.

“Excellent.” He gestured to a chair in the corner of the entrance hall. “Could you wait there a moment? I need to speak with Dr. Iplier. Oliver, could you be so kind as to join me too?” The doctor flinched, eyes widening. It wasn’t up for debate. Sensing the tension, Mark quickly moved to sit, eyeing the alters carefully. Dark spun on his heel and strode down the left hall that came off the entrance, Dr. Iplier and Oliver following stiffly. He passed the entrance the garage on the right wing, instead continuing to the end of the hall and pushing through some double doors. The room would’ve been gorgeous if it wasn’t for Amy’s fear of Dark’s presence. The wall opposite the door was coated in windows, causing the room to be lit entirely by natural light. Dark didn’t offer them to sit as he closed the doors behind them with a shuddering thud. He turned to face them, shell cracking and spluttering with curses and screams before he suddenly calmed. The contrast sent shivers down Amy’s spine.

“Do you think I’m an idiot, doctor?” He finally spoke, his echoing voice laced with malice. Amy wasn’t even in the room, yet she pulled away in fear.

“No, sir.” He managed in response.

“Really? It sure doesn’t seem like it. You seriously believed I wouldn’t notice an email I never sent with schedule changes? Or that I didn’t hear your conversation with Miss Nelson yesterday?” Dark pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing. “We can discuss this later, Iplier. We have a guest waiting. And Miss Nelson? I know you can hear me.” Dark’s eyes met hers through the laptop screen. “I don’t blame you for this little, incident, and you are free to watch the whole thing. However, if you so much as make a whimper while Mark is near your room, I’ll elicit you and your dear boyfriend to a punishment you can’t even fathom in your worst nightmares. Do you understand me?” The way his voice was as calm as ever caused her innards to squirm, her blood running cold. The wrath of a being older than time seeped through his façade. “Alright. Now, let’s get back to the tour.”

As they neared the entrance, Mark was nowhere to be found. Dark looked as if he might destroy the entire dimension they stood within when an angry voice declared itself. Dark led the way up the entrance of the library, where Mark stood, hands help up placating.

“The Host states again that does not wish to talk to Mr. Fischbach and firmly requests that Mark leaves his library. If Mark were to disobey the Host, he might find himself suffering tortures well deserved for his ignorance.” The voice was laced with venom, and Mark quickly backed away. He collided with Dark, causing him to leap forward, before scrambling out of the library once more. Amy watched as he glanced back into the library, guilt evident in his eyes. Amy knew that the Host didn’t enjoy company to begin with, and he had already displayed his hatred for Mark previously. He blamed Mark for everything that had happened to him, and in a way, he wasn’t wrong. Mark seemed to realize this fact, he may have even tried to apologize, clearly to little avail. Amy stared at the screen, just able to catch the Host in Oliver’s vision. Her heart plummeted. She could see the blood dripping down his face, the way their body shuddered with frantic breaths. The doctor noted this immediately and stepped into the library.

“Stop.” Came the response, a voice that could kill, and the doctor froze in place. “Didn’t you hear me? I said get out.” Dark shook his head, seemingly disappointed.

“My apologies, Mark. It seems the Host is unwilling to talk with us today. Like I said, we need to reschedule the introductions. Come, all of you, it’s time for the tour.”

It was the same as what Amy had experienced a few days prior. However, this time, Dark seemed almost nice, leading both Mark and Amy alike to be suspicious. He never brought up Amy as the bargaining chip or asked for the use of Mark’s channel, which only unnerved Amy greater. He was waiting for something, and that scared her. He had motives he hadn’t expressed with her, and Amy was really starting to realize that she was disposable. She had sat with hands covering her mouth as the tour passed her room, taking all her self-control not to scream out to Mark. Throughout the tour, no other alters were found. Bim didn’t show himself, which worried Amy considerably. She assumed he was in his room, and trusted the doctor to have kept him safe. But Bim was always one to show himself, he’d wanted to meet Mark. What had changed?

Amy knew the answer to that, but she wanted to forget what had happened to Bim.

When it came time for Mark to leave, she could see the suspicion in his eyes. He suspected she was here, and that offered more worry to Amy than relief. This is what Dark wanted. To bait Mark. To lure him into thinking he was in control when in reality he was being carefully toyed with. As Mark left, ready to schedule another meeting, Amy wanted to vomit. As Dark turned to Dr. Iplier, murder in his eyes.

“Meet me in the sitting room, now.” Amy shut down the laptop, hands clenching, eyes watering.

How had she convinced herself it was over? That she would escape?

It always gets worse before it gets better.

But she had an idea, it seemed pointless, dangerous even, but maybe she would get something from it. She knew where the sitting room was, it was the room outside of Dark’s bedroom.

She was going to eavesdrop on Dark’s punishment.


	12. Punishment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amy Nelson awakens in a manor clueless as to how she arrived there. Soon to discover she has been kidnapped in a scheme by characters she'd presumed to be fictional Soon to discover she is the bargaining chip in a greater plan. Soon to discover that nothing is what it seems, and she is going to need to use her wits to escape before Mark is unknowingly dragged into this plot for revenge. Amy needs to figure out what these forces are planning in their quest for control before it's too late. However, she isn't alone. Some of these crazed characters may be more willing to help her than she'd assume.  
> See no evil.  
> Speak no evil.  
> Hear no evil.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Dark is an abusive asshole, as you all know, and this chapter contains some blood.

Amy slid open the bedroom door with shaking hands, hesitantly stepping into the empty hallway. The door had been left unlocked by Dr. Iplier, presumably to avoid the suspicion of Mark if the plan had gone awry. She swallowed, regret filling her stomach as her rib cage constricted around her heart. The final words Dark had left had sent her off the precipice, and she now plummeted into the abyss. She sank down into the cold, unforgiving depths as ice water filled her mouth and lungs and sent her choking for air. The throbbing of her heart and the echoing of water filled her ears as she travelled down the hall, trying to keep her desperate, raspy breaths silent. She knew she was going to drown. At that moment, she couldn’t think of saving the others as they flailed vainly around her. She would grasp onto anything that kept her afloat, letting it die in vortex below her. Like anyone frantic to free themselves from the greedy waves, she would let the others get swept away in the current.

Amy pulled herself up the stairs, careful to keep quiet. She had to forget about the alters and focus on her own escape now. Once she was out, she could explain to Mark the situation and get the others out of here. But she couldn’t wait for Mark to save her now, it was what Dark wanted. Whatever information he disclosed with the doctor could aid her escape. It was risky, but it was all she had. Her only chance. Now on the ground floor, she could see into the grand room once more. It had been a while since she’d seen it, and it was still impressive. The ceiling extended up to the next floor, the balcony from the stairs above looking out across it. A large rectangular table stood proudly under the large, golden chandelier. The chair at the head of the table was certainly more impressive than the others, but nothing like the throne she’d expected. Her gaze trailed across the rest of the room when she suddenly spotted a figure. She crept slightly further down the stairs, ducking down. It had been Silver Shepard, but she couldn’t blow her cover. Even though she was sure he would be on her side, that didn’t mean he’d spot her quietly. Besides, Amy would be strongly advised against eavesdropping on Dark, and probably for a good reason. But she didn’t care. Relief crashed through her when a pair of blue converse crossed her eyeline. Dr. Iplier had just past her, and she wouldn’t have realized in time to avoid him had she not hid from Silver.

“Hey Doc! What’re you up to?” Amy froze in place, pressing her body further into the steps, sending a silent prayer that no one was planning walking down them yet. It was the superhero who’d spoken, his lisp evident in his voice, and the doctor turned to face them. He didn’t speak as he quietly gestured towards the left, the sitting room entrance. There was a moment of silence before the screech of a chair signalled Silver’s movement. She could just see the top of his mask from where she hid

“I suggest you go back to your room, Shep.” The nod of their head was all the warning she had the shuffle further down the stairs. She paused as he walked over, hoping the mask over his eyes increased his blind spots. Silver made their way up the steps, before stopping right above Amy. Her breath hitched, and she quickly clamped her hand over her mouth.

“I’m sorry, Doc.” Amy’s insides wrung up at the sorrow in those words.

“It’s alright, there’s nothing you can do. It’s my fault. You can’t save everyone.” She wasn’t sure if he was talking to Silver or himself. The creak of wooden steps started above her, before growing quiet. There was a moment of silence, and she heard the doctor sigh. He turned, and she watched him go as if he was on his way to the gallows. Maybe he was. The double doors thudded shut as he entered the sitting room, and she stood, stretching cramped limbs and calming her beating heart. It was here she furthermore understood the idiocy of her current plan. There was nowhere to hide. Nowhere to hear or see what went down. All she had was a large, communal room filled with open space and windows and a small hallway that contained a pair of double doors that was clearly visible to anyone outside the room. In a mansion of this quality, she doubted she’d be able to hear anything through the walls. Amy racked her brain, trying to remember the layout. She had been in the room once before, and that was under stressful circumstances. But she vaguely recalled a hallway that led off the chamber. Slowly, she made her way back up the stairs, glancing down the central hallway. This had been where she’d run to the exit before the Host had found her. He was probably still in the library, and Amy couldn’t just write him off as blind. He was more observant than any other alter until he kept his mouth shut. There was a chance he already knew she was here, though whether he would act on that was beyond her. The Host seemed to be a neutral force, but she was yet to consider him anything but a threat. He had been the one to bring her here. 

Fully understanding the stupidity of her actions, she continued soundlessly down the hall, eyeing the entrance. If only it were as easy as leaving through those doors. The Googles were no where to be seen, which unnerved her. Prehaps they were still charging? Maybe in their office? She had to account for everyone. Amy risked a glance into the library. The Host was still in there, though it appeared he hadn’t noticed her. He wasn’t narrating, in fact, he seemed to be straining to keep his mouth shut. Shaky hands bloodied from his tears touched a book on the table before him, smearing the blood onto the pages. Immediately she wanted to run in and assist him, but she fixed herself in place. She remembered his words during Mark’s visit, and there wasn’t time. She had to hear what Dark said to the doctor. She spied a door on the opposite side of the library. Amy contemplated running for it but swiftly dismissed the notion. The Host may have been blind, but he wasn’t deaf. Besides, the second he started his narrations again she’d be caught. Amy had to move on before any other alters saw her. She reached the end of the hall, the entrance area down a small staircase, and spied a hallway that led down to the left wing. She made her way more hastily now, cringing at the sound her footsteps made on the floor. The hall came to a split on the left and right side, an entrance to the left wing and an elevated platform with a door. She remembered Dark’s words, the left wing belonged to the Host, and she was forbidden to go inside. She shoved her curiosity away as she headed right, adrenaline pumping as she slid open the door. There was a square room which was filled with the faintest ringing, causing Amy to shiver. There were two other doors, one the open entrance to the library she’d seen prior. Based on her positioning, she quickly deduced the other door led towards the sitting room. She made her way through, now entering a hallway connected to an even more impressive dressing room than the one she’d seen previously. This entire area had to be Dark’s bathroom. She would’ve scoffed at the concept, but he was practically the master of the house. It all appeared to be unused anyway. The ringing grew louder as she moved, and suddenly her ears caught on to the echoing of a voice. She ducked into the closet, feeling uncomfortable amongst all the suits that had to belong to him. She was here. This was Dark’s domain. Amy made her way out of the closet and towards the sitting room, careful to avoid being seen. Now settled behind a wall, the voices were clearer, and she risked a peek. She could see Dr. Iplier’s shadow as Dark drew nearer, disappearing behind the wall. He didn’t have a shadow.

“You’ve fucked up now, haven’t you doctor? You knew that right from the beginning. You think you know better. You think you’re more observant than I am. Don’t you?” She saw the doctors shadow shake its head, and she pulled away, leaning against the wall, heart hammering. Screaming static filled her ears as Darks shell broke further.

“I could make you feel more pain than you thought possible. More pain than a human could ever imagine in their worst nightmares. I am the reason you are alive, Dr. Iplier. I made you into the doctor you always wanted to be, and this is how you repay me?” His voice echoed through the halls, meeting Amy’s ears at full force. The black void that surrounded him expanded, sending the world dark and monochrome. Dark wrath shattered reality around him, the black tendrils of his dimension snapped at her, and Amy bit back a scream. Blood filled her mouth. He really wasn’t human. Words couldn’t describe the demon down the hall. His words sent pain and anger and fear and hopelessness constricting her mind, chattering and shrieking in her ears. Her nightmare filled her mind again, dread and horror weighing down her bones. It was as if Dark was angry at her. As if he were right there in front of her. And the ringing, always there Amy thought it would never leave. This was what drove a human to insanity. What sent people leaping to their demise. What sent Bim in a wild frenzy to remove his tongue. It made her want to beg and wail for mercy. Made her want to find something to end it all. Every regret and fear and terrible memory she’d ever experienced flashed through her. Every hope and dream and desire crushed in the darkness. She pulled at her hair, relishing in the sting that pulled her away from her mind, the blood seeping from her mouth, its metallic tinge all she could taste. She had to keep silent. Had to keep silent. Silent. Tears mingled with blood. “I could end you here doctor, but that would be merciful. I gave you one task, one simple request. Keep Amy in the mansion.” His voice was deathly quiet, yet it still reached her ears. The void responded to him, grasping and clawing at her skin, leaving a monochromatic tinge. She wished it would hurt her. Wished it showed sign of its existence. Blood, scratches, scars, anything, not this mental bombardment of indescribable emotion. A breathy laugh resonated through the room. Everything was black now, Dark was all there was. “No, doctor, If I really wanted to hurt you I’d need to be more imaginative. I need something that’ll teach you a lesson and make you think twice about disobeying me. I’m trying to help you, doctor, help us take back control. But if you’re going to fuck everything up, I’ll just have to keep you away from her. If I were to hurt her…” Amy’s blood ran cold.

“Sir, please…” It was cut out by screaming, the dark void surrounding her twisting and shaking. It stopped abruptly, replaced with faint spluttering and sobbing.

“I told you to keep your mouth shut!” There was a pause, before Dark continued, his voice vaguely calmer. “I won’t hurt her. I don’t like getting my hands dirty. But tell me, doctor, if you thought you would be the one to hurt her, you’d stay away, wouldn’t you? If let’s say, you couldn’t take your pills…”

“S-Sir…” More screams. Silence. Spluttering. Sobbing. Amy clawed furiously at her ears, but she could still hear him

“It’s a privilege doctor, one I’m willing to remove if you refuse to obey my simple requests. You’ve had too many chances. It’s over.“ For a slight moment, Amy thought he’d just let the doctor go. Dark was silent, and Dr. Iplier’s whimpers reached her ears. He’d helped her knowing this could happen… “Oh, but I can’t let you leave so soon. Taking away something as simple as pills isn’t going to be effective. I’m sure the void would love to play with you.” Agonizing screams reverberated across the room and Amy snapped. This was torture. She wasn’t going to get anything from this. It was like she’d just suddenly realized that Dark wasn’t after her. Wasn’t scolding her. She could leave. Fear bubbled and exploded through her senses, and she bolted, leaving the wails and cries behind her. Her heart throbbed in her ears like constant drumming. The void licked at her feet, black tendrils tripping her up and blinding her. Amy prayed the ringing was enough to mask her retreat as she slammed the door shut behind her. The void oozed under the door like grasping hands, twisting and writhing. She flinched back, pushing her way through an open door, shoving it closed and crashing to the floor. She crawled away, spitting out blood from her mouth. Finally, Amy let out a scream. It died in her throat when a figure loomed over her, and her eyes widened. The black sparks still coated her vision, and she recoiled, hands moving to protect her face. The figure moved closer, kneeling beside her. Desperate narrations finally poured from their mouth. A hand wrapped itself firmly around her own.

“Miss Nelson is safe now. The Host is beside her. The Host won’t send her back.“ The words were gentle but they didn’t mean anything. Her brain was spinning in circles, and nausea gripped her gut. The world twisted and whirled around her as black dots danced. Blood was all she could taste. Blood and pain and fear. “Breathe Miss Nelson. Breathe.” She choked on the blood, her breath wild and desperate gasps. He grasped her shoulders, the fabric of a coat brushing against her skin. A shaky hand touched her cheek. “Listen. Listen to me, Miss Nelson. You’re fine. He’s not here. Just breathe.” The words finally began to process through her mind. It slowed, the black dots fading. She was in the library. The ringing had faded. She couldn’t hear the screams. Couldn’t hear him. Oxygen flooded her system. In and out. In and out

“Dr. I-Iplier…”

“He’s in the void. You followed him, Miss Nelson.” She shuddered. More tears brimmed in her eyes and precious air caught in her throat. She couldn’t. It wasn’t. No. “Breathe.” She did. “The Host apologizes that Miss Nelson had to see that. The Hosts wishes he’d stopped her. The Host should’ve guessed what her intentions were.” She wrapped herself in his arms. She couldn’t think anymore. She wanted the be home so badly. She wanted her friends. Wanted to be with Mark. And Chica. And Marzipan. To wave everything off as a nightmare or some gruesome imagining. She grasped onto the Host tighter. Didn’t notice how he flinched at the contact. The Host continued to murmur meaningless condolences gently into her ears. Slowly and carefully, as Amy calmed, the Host pulled himself away from her, helping her stand.

“Miss Nelson should accompany the Host to the left wing.” She cringed, falling back, and the Host quickly steadied her.

“D-Dark said the left wing was forbidden.” She managed to utter weakly.

“The Host shakes his head and explains that Miss Nelson isn’t allowed in the left wing downstairs. If the Host were to grant permission, which he has, Miss Nelson may accompany him to the left wing on the first and second floors.” She nodded slightly, unable to protest. As he attempted to move back towards the door, she froze in place. “The Host expresses that he will not take Miss Nelson back, and will instead lead her through the left door.” Amy shook her head, mouthing illegible phrases. She felt like a child, rooted to the spot, too scared to move. He nodded understandingly. “The Host will escort her around the long way.” He grasped her hand tightly, slowly leading her back around through the centre hallway and towards the left wing. He guided her up a flight of stairs, taking her down a short hall. He stopped, and gestured to an open door, leading to what she assumed to be his bedroom. “The Host wonders if Miss Nelson would be comfortable waiting in there?” For some reason, the concept terrified her. Maybe it seemed too claustrophobic, because her body shut down, shuddering and pleading. The Host shushed her, nodding sympathetically, before moving her further down the hall. Two rooms with open doors stood to her right. At one point, they may have been spare bedrooms, though now the beds were coated in a layer of books, writing utensils and dust. The wall on her left opened out slightly, making a slight room filled with dusty couches which faced a large window. The Host gestured to it, and Amy froze up. She didn’t want to look out the window. Didn’t want to see the world she was trapped in. She felt like a fussy little kid, scared of the dark. Jumping at every little thing. It was pathetic, yet the fear that ran through her was too real to deny. The Host didn’t mind, he was overly understanding as he led her further into the left wing. She wondered if he’d ever let anyone else in here. The hall opened out to a second, smaller library. The center was open to the first floor below. The curtains were drawn, the only light coming from low-lit candles. It smelt of wax and old books, and a grandfather clocked ticked monotonously in the corner. It was calm. Amy felt her shoulders relax slightly, her lungs loosen to allow more air. Noticing the change in demeanor, The Host guided her to sit in a comfortable chair. “Miss Nelson sits in the Hosts personal library. The Host asks if Miss Nelson would like him to get her a drink of water. He would only take a moment.” She nodded weakly, and the Host made his way back down the hall. He returned soon after, and Amy took the glass gratefully. She chugged it, only realizing suddenly how parched her throat was, and how desperately she needed to rid the taste of blood. When she was done, she placed the glass down on a small wooden table beside her. Amy took a moment to let the Host’s appearance sink in. He appeared even more bedraggled than when she’d last seen him. His bandages were soaked, his cheeks coated with streaks of dried blood. It appeared as if he hadn’t changed his clothes in days. His coat was uneven, the dress shirt underneath unironed. The tips of his fingers were calloused, and his palms were stained with blood from his eyes, some of which had been rubbed off onto his pants and coat. He stood in front of her awkwardly, hands clenched together.

“Do you want to sit?” She choked out, clearing her throat slightly. He jerked slightly, before narrating himself quietly over to a chair. He moved it over, before taking a seat before her. A moment went by where he studied her in that strange way he managed to achieve without eyes.

“The Host believes Miss Nelson has a lot of questions. The Host is happy to assist.” He didn’t want to talk about earlier, which sent relief crashing through her, clearing away some of her anxiety.

“I want to know everything.” She tried, still noting how raspy her voice sounded.

“The Host expresses that everything isn’t particularly specific.” The one question that had been burned in her mind since she arrived here came forth, bursting to leave her throat. After everything she’d seen Dark do, her mind was at a loss. He wasn’t human, none of them were.

“I want to know about you, Host. How do you even exist? How do any of you exist? What are you…” She paused, fatigue and anger and fear seeping into her tone.

“How the fuck are the alters real?”


	13. Recollection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amy Nelson awakens in a manor clueless as to how she arrived there. Soon to discover she has been kidnapped in a scheme by characters she'd presumed to be fictional Soon to discover she is the bargaining chip in a greater plan. Soon to discover that nothing is what it seems, and she is going to need to use her wits to escape before Mark is unknowingly dragged into this plot for revenge. Amy needs to figure out what these forces are planning in their quest for control before it's too late. However, she isn't alone. Some of these crazed characters may be more willing to help her than she'd assume.  
> See no evil.  
> Speak no evil.  
> Hear no evil.

Amy regretted the question the second the words left her mouth. She felt terrible, watching the Host flinch back, his hands grasping each other tightly. This wasn’t a character, this was a person.

And she’d just implied he shouldn’t exist.

He swallowed, before nodding solemnly.

“The Host understands Miss Nelson’s confusion. The Host wonders the same thing.” That made her feel worse. “However, the Host is able to explain what he does know.”

“You don’t need to talk about anything you don’t want to.” Amy offered. It was the least she could do, considering she was asking someone to explain their reality. The Host held up a hand to silence her, a slight smile tugging his lips.

“No need, Miss Nelson. You deserve to know, Mark should’ve told you long ago.” Spite was evident whenever the Host mentioned Mark’s name, but at least he was also attempting to disguise it. Amy adjusted her position in the armchair, preparing for his response. She hadn’t expected him to stand abruptly. He strolled past walls of bookcases, fingers tracing down the spines of old books. She watched in silence, his every move telling a story. Some books sent a smile to his lips, others caused him to withdraw his hand as if he’d been burnt. Certain books he avoided entirely, making significant detours to evade them. He didn’t narrate himself once, moving with clear confidence in his location. He twisted through shelves, avoided every pile of tomes stashed on the floor. Careful hands slid the books from their homes, placing them gently on a small wooden table beside her. Seemingly satisfied with his selected books, he sat in the chair before her, rifling through pages. Some were written in illegible handwriting, others text from a typewriter. Many had small braille messages made from little pin holes. “The Host prefers to read from script. It makes him easier to understand, compared to his regular speech patterns.” Amy nodded quickly, before remembering it probably aided the Host if she spoke aloud.

“Of course. Go ahead.” He paused on a page, brushing his thumb across a bloodstain. He sighed, before starting to read. It was Mark’s voice, like when he read the dialogue of a game. The Host was even more captivating, never skipping a beat unless necessary for effect.

“The alters aren’t new. Some have been around for a long time. They each appeared for different reasons, at different times. There is debate about whom came first, but…” He stopped, tilting his head to regard Amy. “The Host asks for Miss Nelson’s permission to talk about him.” It was Amy’s turn to flinch back. She wasn’t sure why the prospect of it scared her so much. She needed to know more. She knew that this information could aid in her escape. Yet she had to brace herself to hear his name.

“Yes.” Her voice cracked on that, but the Host didn’t comment.

“It is thought Dark came first. He’s been with Mark since he was a child, plaguing him with constant nightmares. However, he may have existed, floating through the void, long before Mark was ever born. Time doesn’t apply in the void. Miss Nelson may have only been in there for seconds when spying on the doctor. Before that, in the few minutes waiting for Mr. Trimmer’s return, he could’ve been in there for hours.“ She winced at the realization, then froze. How had the Host known about Bim? “This makes Dark older than all the alters. A being ruling over a separate dimension. No one knows his true motives, but he currently aids the alters in a quest to take control of Mark’s channel. The Host doesn’t believe this co-operation will last for long.” His voice was barely a whisper, hands pulling away from the text to fidget with the cuffs of his coat. It was clear in his tone and urgency he shouldn’t be divulging this information. “Wilford presumably arrived around the same time, though he and Dark kept to themselves. Wilford may be accountable for some of Mark’s more, eccentric, behaviour. It was much later when the other alter began to take form. Contrary to general belief, many alter egos formed before their specific video, the idea of them can be shaped early on. Creatures develop ideas on things based on past experiences, someone’s opinion on a dog would be different if they had been in a vicious attack as a child. Although Mark was likely unaware of it at the time, his time spent around hospitals led to the creation of Dr. Iplier, though he didn’t have his name at that point. The Host iterates that the doctor was a very different person back then, a character created out of Mark’s confusion and spite at being stuck in the hospital for weeks. Stuck with his thoughts, he’d distracted himself with the amusing concept of a mad doctor, before tossing the idea to the wayside, a little pocket dimension filled with the endless halls of a hospital in which he was trapped for years on end. Dr. Iplier lost his medical license very quickly.” Amy listened in stunned silence. That didn’t sound like the doctor she knew. The conversation she remembered from to void filled her ears, sending a shiver down her spine.

“D-Dark mentioned something about taking away his medication.” The Host froze, hands clenching the fabric of his pants tightly.

“The Host knows that doesn’t bode well for the doctor.“ He sighs, the gaze of his bloodied bandages boring into her. ”Dr. Iplier was always conflicted, created to be a failure. He desperately wanted to save his patients but had too erratic of a mental state to keep them alive. Dark was the one to save him from his prison. He offered medication and freedom in return for the doctor’s services. Dr. Iplier knew the deal was dodgy, knew that there wasn’t medication to cure his insanity so easily. Yet he accepted. And it worked. He got addicted to it, whatever cursed medications Dark dug up for him. He was one of the first alters to join Dark, but the years he spent in that hospital left scars. The Host suggests Miss Nelson shows caution around him now.” She wasn’t sure what to say. It made a twisted sort of sense, Dr. Iplier wasn’t keeping his end of the bargain, so Dark revoked his end. A deal with the Devil must be upheld unless you’re willing to pay the consequences. Amy didn’t want to hear about the doctor’s fate anymore.

“Who came next?” The Host faltered at her sudden change in topic. “As in, which alter was created after Dr. Iplier?” The Host quickly drew his attention to the books in his hands, flicking through pages and feeling his braille notes.

“The Host finds it hard to keep track after the beginnings of Mark’s channel. Bim was most likely beginning to form during this time, a character created as a joking jibe at Mark’s ego. No one can keep an ego after being abandoned close to death…” His voice wavered, falling quiet. He wasn’t just referring to Bim. “The Author was next. A young, selfish writer under the incorrect notion that he could play god. He got cocky, toyed with creations unbeknownst of the consequences. His idiocy got him killed.” He spat the words, face twisted as if trying to get bile of his tongue. Amy should’ve taken the hint.

“If the Author died when he was shot, how are you…?” The was a loud clatter as the books cascaded to the floor, the Host towering over her.

“I AM NOT THE AUTHOR!” The storm clouds had finally broken, thunder and lightning crackling to the surface. Amy recoiled back into her seat, staring up at him. “I regret everything he did. But the Author is dead. Only the Host remains.” He spent a long moment there, staring right through the bloodstained bandages before straightening his coat. He pulled away, stumbling slightly over the discarded books. His face contorted with … guilt? It was hard to determine his eyeless expression. The Host kept his head lowered as he gathered the scattered texts, placing them back onto the table. His hands were shaky. Amy sat in stunned silence.

“I’m sorry…”

“Don’t be.” The words were flat, and he didn’t return to his seat. “There isn’t much else to tell. The longer Mark was around, the more alters were created. Google, although his creation may have begun earlier, was formed later, and quickly found himself under Dark’s alliance. King of the Squirrels, Ed Edgar, Silver Shepard all stemmed from videos. Soon every little idea or one-off joke in a game was creating an alter. Tossed aside into an incomplete dimension to be forgotten. Mark abandoned them all.”

Amy wasn’t sure what to say. The Host scooped up the scattered books and sheets, returning them to their shelves. He refused to turn his head to face her as he slid the final tome into its place.

“The Host wonders if Miss Nelson needs to stay any longer?” It was voiced as a question, and Amy appreciated his hospitality, but it was clear he was uncomfortable. Not only had she come into his space, but she’d also tripped a nerve, and the open book had slammed shut. She cleared her throat.

“N-No, I think I’m alright to return to my room now, thank you.” She stood, slipping towards the library entrance. The Host didn’t respond, still facing the bookcase intently. “I really appreciate your help, I can put the empty glass back if you want.”

“It’s fine Miss Nelson.” She nodded, backing away.

“R-Right. Well, thank you, again, for everything. See you later?“ No response. She offered him a faint smile. He didn’t return it as blood pooled in his bandages and trickled down his cheeks. Heavy-hearted, Amy made her way back down the hall, out of the left wing. She kept to the walls, checking around corners for company. There was no one. She’d suspected a mansion filled with such crazy characters would be bustling, yet it was so silent you could’ve heard a pin drop. Maybe they knew what was happening to the doctor.

Upon reaching the stairs, Amy had almost relaxed. But, the sudden shuffling of feet alerted her, and she swiftly ducked out of sight. The alter stumbled, wheezing and coughing, before collapsing to the floor. Her stomach lurched, realization dawning as she examined the figure.

It was Dr. Iplier.

Forgetting the Host’s words of caution, she rushed forward, offering a hand. He immediately recoiled, shaky hands moving to protect his face, illegible phrases leaving his lips. Her heart plummetted in her chest. They were pleas for mercy. Amy froze. He’d just been through what she had witnessed, only much, much worse. She slowed her movements, kneeling beside him.

“Hey, just breathe okay? It’s me, Amy.” The words were supposed to offer reassurance, yet they achieved the opposite. His hands retracted to reveal wide eyes as he leaped up, swaying at the sudden motion.

"A-Amy!” The words were raspy, a test of the tongue. His lips were cracked, stained with the blood that dripped from his nose. The memory of the nightmare crept into her conscience and Amy couldn’t stop her gaze flicking to check his ears. They were fine. The rest of him wasn’t. Fidgeting pale hands pulled at the cuffs of his wrinkled coat, messy hair obscuring his fearfully darting eyes. He was uncharacteristically jittery, all sense of professionalism gone. It upset her to watch. “Y-Y can’t b-be here. You n-need to get b-back t-to your room. I can't…” Amy stood, and she couldn’t help feeling hurt at how he quickly stepped back, careful to maintain distance. “… Be n-near you. C-come on then! Just, go downstairs.”

“Dr. Iplier…”

“Sh-shut up! Listen to me, I know what’s best! You can’t be around me anymore, it’s a hazard. You have to trust me on this, please Amy.“ She understood, yet it didn’t pain her any less. Despite the situation she was in, she saw him as a friend. She didn’t want to see him like this. She took a step forward, and he took two steps back, violently shoving his hands into his coat pockets. His voice was cracking now, desperate pleading eyes boring into her own. "P-Please. I don’t want to have to force you.” The pair stood in silence for a moment, unspoken messages sparking in the air between them. Finally, Amy stepped away, hands held in surrender, before storming down the stairs in every effort to stop him seeing her tears. The weight in her heart had grown even heavier.

Maybe it was for the best.

At least, that helped ease the guilt.

Mark didn’t know what to do anymore. He knew Amy was in the mansion, the clues were there. His invitation had clearly been tampered with, Dr. Iplier had been trying to send a message. The way Dark reacted proved that. What he didn’t understand, was why Dark had been so hospitable. Mark had waltzed in their fully expecting a trap; instead, he’d been granted the tensest home tour he’d ever experienced. No violent rants or attempts at control. No bargains, not even a mention of Amy’s disappearance. So, what did Dark want? Why was it never simple?

Mark groaned, running his hands through his hair. He’d just run out of pre-recorded videos, and he doubted he could feign convincing joy. He had no clear explanation for taking a break, and his friends were catching on that something was amiss. Amy’s absence from social media would be noticed, especially if she wasn’t around for the charity livestream that month. Mark let out a frustrated sigh, leaning back in his chair. The livestream, how had he forgotten? He didn’t have a plan for that, and the team would expect something about it soon. In less than a week, he had to have this situation sorted or at least a worthwhile explanation to Amy’s disappearance. Since, ‘Oh yeah, by the way, all my alter egos are frick fracking real and currently have Amy kidnapped in some weird hell dimension!” wasn’t going to cut it. No one would believe that, and he wasn’t exactly willing for his friends to find out about it. Though, with current events, that appeared inevitable. Mark started spinning in his chair in some vague attempt to clear his head. He needed to figure out Dark’s plan, preferably before it became too late to stop.

So, his deadline was a little less than a week. Not his shortest deadline, he’d completed the editing of massive projects overnight. This was a bit different than that. Amy’s life could be at stake. He had to tread carefully from here on out. Find out Dark’s plan, something after that, then save Amy.

If Amy wasn’t already dead.

He shook his head, standing up and approaching his recording studio. He couldn’t think like that, it wouldn’t get him anywhere. Mark turned on his recording program, checking himself in the camera. He didn’t look any worse than usual, so he began a search for a horror game. That should clear his mind, or at least get him something to upload. But he had to be quick.

 

Time was running out.


	14. Trapped

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the huge delay in the creation of this chapter! It also may be badly edited, as much as I hope that isn't the case, since I wanted to get it up now. I will be taking a week or so off, since Christmas, which seems dumb after the months I've already taken off. I won't be able to write as I am away without a computer (a tragedy). I really hope people enjoy this chapter though, again, really sorry for the delay and the fact it probably isnt good enough to make up for it...

Amy paced around her in a frenzy, running her fingers through her hair. She didn’t know what to do. Everyone who’d tried to help her was gone. Their attempt at aid had led to them getting hurt, it was her fault. Mark would be scheduling to come back, and Amy couldn’t risk that. Every second ticked down to whenever Dark’s plan took place. She had to get out now, and she had to do it alone. Amy let in a shaky breath, as she lowered her hands. Dark controlled who entered and left this place. But it appeared when he opened it, it was open to everyone. If she left the same time Mark was supposed to arrive, she should be able to slip out unseen. Amy’s hand moved down to her back pocket, pulling out her phone that Dr Iplier had thankfully fetched for her. Even now, he was still helping her escape, it was the only thought available to make her feel any better. They had told her that there wasn’t a reliable connection, using her phone could lead the Googles straight to her. But it’d be safe once she got out. That was the plan. Leave when Mark was arriving at the manor, then message that she was out so he would be able to sneak out with her. Sure, a lot could go wrong, and there were many other things she needed to sort out, but it was a start. A decent framework. If only she knew how much time she had available to her. 

Right now, she had to plan how to get out of the manor itself unseen. The front door was always locked, and she had no one to open it for her, at least no one who was willing. The garage was an option, but it was a last resort. Even if she found a way to open the doors, it was noisy, and left a clear trail to her escape route. She collapsed into the arm chair, hands pattering against her thighs and she tapped her feet against the ground repeatedly. She could feel the tension and nerves building up to breaking point, her mind desperately searching for ideas. She froze. The left wing, in the basement, supposedly off limits. That was near here, and no one had bothered with the locks on her door yet. There had to be a reason it was off-limits, perhaps a way out? Sure, it could also be dangerous, but at this stage she was desperate.

Amy leapt to her feet, quickly tying her hair back and out of the way. She checked the phones flashlight was still working, before placing it in the back pocket of her jeans. She rubbed her hands together, shifting her weight, sucking in a shaky breath, before she wandered over to the door. Amy stood like that for a long while, hand on the doorknob. She shook her head, biting her lip, what did she have to lose at this point? She wasn’t getting out of here if she didn’t make her own efforts. Silently, she slid the door open, shooting a quick glance down the halls. It was silent, something that always unnerved her. Despite all the occupants of this manor, the place always had moments where it was deafeningly quiet. Every move she made seemingly echoing across the halls, as if they screamed out that she was a target. Amy swallowed, closing the door behind her, she couldn’t let an empty hallway disturb her. She crouches down, peeking down the hall to her left. Certain she can see movement behind the theatre curtain. She bites her lip, looking down the hall ahead of her, the door seemingly miles away. Placing one foot carefully in front of the other, she made her way down the hall. Every movement was slow and cautious, her body pressed against the wall to provide some feeling of cover. She eventually finds her way to the end of the hall, carefully making her way through the door. Moving with increased caution at the new area. She freezes up, heart fluttering in her chest. She can hear something. She listens on for a moment in confusion. It was the trickle of water. She moves forward, up a small flight of stairs onto an elevated area. It was a swimming pool. She vaguely remembers being informed of it on her tour, although she never came across it this way. It was a long, empty space, the pool long and rectangular, extending longward out from her position, the opposite wall curved. The water echoed ominously throughout the tiled room, the light reflecting strange patterns across the ceiling. It was a large, open space, with many entrances, and Amy backs against the wall in an attempt to eye all of them. She travels the width of the room, eyeing that it opens out in what, based on what she’d seen, had to be the basement level of the left-wing. She lets fleeting relief fill her system when she reaches the other side with no obstacles, backing down the stairs on the other side hastily. Amy let herself rest a moment, the exertion caused by excessive anxiety making it hard to concentrate. After a while, she glanced around, eyeing down the hallway to her destination. The manor, despite its occupants being terrifying, was a beautiful place. Filled with art and sculptures, brilliant architecture and lighting. Amy wasn’t a professional architect in any sense, but she wasn’t stupid, it was a nice place. That’s what made this hallway all the more unsettling. It seemed vaguely… incomplete. The first thing she noted was the lighting seemed off. The brightly lit pool area provided stark contrast, and while it could go almost unnoticed, as enough light made its way down to make everything visible, there were no lights on the ceiling. Furthermore, there were no artworks, the walls were blank. No fancy wall papers or accents, no sculptures, not even a potted plant. It almost looked grey where the wall twisted off into the wing, and Amy found herself listening for the distinctive ringing. The hallway, if not for being unnaturally spacious, almost looked like any other hall in any normal house. Plain walls, plain floor, plain lightning. And that’s what made it unusual, she managed to deduce, it wasn’t at all manor-like. Unfinished. 

Amy pushed aside her trepidation, it was a hallway. Nothing concerning. She took slow, careful step forward, as if expecting the ceiling to crash down on her. When nothing happened, she continued forward, occasionally shooting glancing behind her. She reaches square opening to the left of the hall’s end. The lack of lighting was much more obvious here, and her anxiety almost felt justified now. This was unnatural. One wall led upstairs, which she knew to be the Host’s rooms. In that moment, rushing up there seemed to be a much more logical decision. Instead she turned her attention to a door located on the wall next to it. It was the most average, inconspicuous door that she’d ever laid eyes upon in her entire time here. Plain, white, with simple silver door handle. So why was every fibre of her being screaming desperately for her not to open it? Her hands were shaking, sweat pooling against her skin. It was cold down here, she realised suddenly, yet sweat still trickled down her neck, making her shiver. In a sudden jerky movement, she violently jerks down the doorhandle, leaping back. The door creaks inwards, echoing. Nothing else happens. She can feel the cool air of the room hit her skin, the hairs on her neck standing to attention. She swallowed, taking a few steps forward, dread spreading through her senses. This wasn’t right. Why was this area so different from those around it? So incomplete? The hall that extended before her was dark, and eerie. An uncertain step forward and her shoe hit concreate, the sound lightly reverberating throughout the left wing. She couldn’t find the light switch, and her hand found her phone, switching on the flashlight. The walls were grey, and scrapped. Metallic, incomplete insulation no one had bothered to paint over yet. Perhaps a storage area that they hadn’t found use for. So why was it off-limits? The ceiling glinted, and she glanced up. A long, single rectangular light was fitted there. Surely there was a light switch somewhere. She took a few more tentative steps forward, light finding a switch behind the door. She flicked it on, the light loudly whirring to life, the sudden glow of it causing her to shield her eyes. No others turned on, just the entrance, enough to light the narrow, claustrophobic hall ahead. She blinks to adjust, examining it in confusion. A UV light? Noe of the other lights she’d seen were of that style. It reminded her of some twisted, abandoned asylum from some horror game, completely out of place. The once gloomy grey halls lit with an unnaturally bright, fluorescent tint. Amy pushes the door half shut behind her, scared if she closes it she might be locked in. Her heart began to palpitate, the sound thundering in her ears as her eyes adjusted to the gloom. The light above her of sufficient quality, she switched off her phone and placed it in her back pocket. She couldn’t waste charge. Cautiously, she made her way forward, every little echo and creak finding its way to her ears as her senses adjusted to the environment. A space that would’ve belonged to a door sat to her right, but the hinges had been broken off. The room was pitch black, cold slithering along currents, and Amy swore she could see her breath fog up. The vague outlines of twisted wires and disassembled furniture stood out from the UV light behind her. Another unfinished room, seemingly empty. Why was this here? It wasn’t like the alters had found their way here recently, right? Everything else was established, except seemingly this wing. She continued moving forward. Another empty doorway, leading into the same empty room. But here, the hallway opened out into another dark room, the outline of more UV lights in the ceiling. Large, empty, unnaturally quiet. Unfinished like the rest of the place. But the walls looked, off. Amy’s hand finds the outline of a light switch, and it flickers on, giving a vague, purple glow. She pauses, looking it over. It was dim, barely visible lighting, unlike the one from before. She glances back at the switch board. The light had a knob for dimness. Why would a UV light, in an empty basement with so many other unfinished contraptions, have bothered with a dimness filter? Wanting to examine the room, she twists the knob up to full. Leaping back out of her skin at the sound of clatter and scampering footsteps.

Something was in the room with her.

Amy lets in a shaky breath as she crouched down, risking a peek into the now lit room. The walls revealed themselves to her, and she felt sick. They were cells. Barred cells lined the walls. All seemingly empty, except for one. The lighting hand been rigged up to it shabbily to the cell closest to the corner. The spotlight, currently off, was rigged to shine through and leave no place to hide. In the shadows of the cage, she could see a figure. She guardedly moves over, the fact they were caged up doing little to reassure her safety. For a heart stopping moment she thinks it to be Mark, but the thought is dismissed. She’d just seen him recently and this figure, presumably another alter, had a very different appearance upon closer inspection. For starters, their hair was long and tangled, their stubble growing out to a slight dishevelled beard. The clung to the shadows, clothing tattered and torn, hugging loosely to their body. They were scrawny and unkempt, clearly having been left here quite a while to develop such a state. They twitched and shuddered, pale clammy hands gripped tightly to their stomach, what she could catch of their face contorted in agony. Amy slowly approached the bars. Upon closer examination, she could only stare in a sort of mystified horror. Their body seemed practically transparent, almost ghoulish. But she didn’t get the impression this was a ghost. It was like the shadows were trying to form a concept, the image blurring and shifting with every movement. Any part of him that stayed still seemed to fade into shadow. Its tongue flicked across its lips and teeth in fast movements, nose flaring up as he sniffed the air. She shook herself from her morbid fascination.

“C-Can you hear me?” The way the being recoiled gave her answer, its head twitching to look at her before quickly glancing away, their body shifting against the wall.

“Turn off the light.” Came the growled response, almost threatening, had it not been so quiet and raspy. Amy considered it a moment, before backing away, hands finding the switchboard. She dimmed the lights, watching the shadows within the cell spread out, allowing more room for movement.

“That- That any better?” She asked timidly, unable to help the pity she feels for what could be some monster. It doesn’t respond, but she sees it move closer to the bars, body still weak, like something that shouldn’t exist. Fading away into the darkness. Examining her, black shadow pooling across its eyes, yet she can see them glimmer as they regard her. A nonvoluntary shiver ran down her spine. “Do you have a name?” It barks out a sound and she winced back, only for it to be laughter. Wheezing and coughing, but still a sort of hysterical laugh.

“No, why would I get a name? Not one I’m allowed to use.” A grimace played across its lips, and it edged closer to the bars. Their hand faded in from the shadows, still almost transparent, beckoning. “You’re not him... Interesting. Come closer.” Amy isn’t sure what they mean. That she isn’t someone specific, that she isn’t an alter, or that she isn’t a man in general. Still, she takes a few timid steps closer. They smile at her, a twisted movement, their lips tight against their teeth, not showing them. “What a sweetheart. No need to be scared. I’m behind bars after all.” They drawled almost sarcastically, crouching down before her.

“What a-are you?”

“A forgotten idea. Not surprised you don’t remember. Come, come closer. Let me see you. I haven’t had company in the longest time.” They rasped, licking their lips, mouth flashing with white teeth. Despite her better judgement, she finds herself shuffling a little closer. “I feel as if I should recognise you. Such a beautiful young creature finding itself in such a dark place. Are you locked in here too?” She shook her head slightly, still staring them down curiously.

“No, not in here, but I am looking for a way out. I thought I might find one here.” It was almost hypnotic, the way the world twisted to form this concept of a being before her. Was this one of the lost alters the Host had spoken of? Why was it here? They tutted, shaking their head.

“An escape? Certainly not here. Not an easy thing you search for. I may help, if you’d let me. I very much wish for freedom too.” They piped up, seemingly more confident with their words. Amy took another slight step forward. Her heart thudded in her chest, ears ringing. “That’s it. Come dear, let me tell you how you could escape this hell. Just a little closer. We must be careful, so no one else hears, no? Such a beautiful specimen… what a pity to go to waste. But I’ve been craving something, so long…” The words process with slight confusion, and Amy shook her head a bit. Moved to take a step back. That’s when the thing lunged. Ravenous, bloodthirsty bloodshot eyes lit up and it slammed into the bars, white hands grasping with long sharp nails. Its teeth bared as it hissed with an animalistic hunger, elongated, sharp canines displayed as its hands gripped desperately, and pulled her towards its jaws. Cold hands clamped down around her stomach suddenly and for a moment the world turned black, echoing and ringing painfully in her ears. Movements in nauseous slow motion as the world warped and twisted, and Amy squeezed her eyes shut. Everything was cold. Empty. Lifeless. Sound returned to her ears in frantic jumbled noises, curses and screams as the thing slammed against the bars over and over. But she was now standing several feet away, out of reach. 

“You little…” A voice growls out next to her ear, low, reverberating through her mind, and she finally remembers the hands grasping her. She pulls away rapidly, and the hands offer no resistance as she falls to the concrete floor. The ringing finally processed, and her heart stops as she glances up. The figure approached the cage with a scowl, a pale hand flicking the light switch, UV light spluttering to life and Amy’s hands clamp over her ears to block out the scream as she scrambles to her feet. “Do you have any understanding in your pathetic mind of what you nearly just did?” He approached the bars, the other alter scampering away, hands clasped against its skin, its body fading and shuddering in the light. He placed his hands behind his back tightly, leaning down to regard the creature in the cell with a snarl. “Miss Nelson is a guest here, and your behaviour is most… unacceptable. I might just leave this light on tonight.” He turned to regard her coldly, and Amy stumbled a few more steps back. It was Dark. “He didn’t get you, did he Miss Nelson? That would’ve been most unfortunate with our current... lack of doctor.” He offered a twisted smile, tilting his head slightly. “I thought I’d informed you to stay out of the left wing? Although, I suppose I can’t blame you, with me tempting you on with such vague rules and the others failing their duties.” He tutted, straightening up with an audible snap. “Your stay has been most unpleasant, and I must apologise, the others are normally better than this.” All Amy managed is to put more distance between them, offering a glare that probably looked more like the twisted fear she felt. She was more aware than ever of the sick fuck that stood before her. He sighed, shaking his head. “Now, Now, that’s no way to treat your saviour.” He gestures to himself with a smug smile. “You would’ve died if it wasn’t for me.” A barked out laugh draws Dark’s attention away from her.

“I think the quick death I’d have offered you is a lot better than dealing with that shithead.”

“I don’t believe you have the right to comment.” Comes the snarled response, Dark tilting his head to regard the creature in the cage with gritted teeth. “Especially since that comment comes from such little sentience. A tactic used by an animal to lure in prey. A final desperate need to bring back your lost meal, am I correct?” A growl is the only response. “I’m saddened that people used to think I was you. See here, Miss Nelson, how your dear boyfriend mocked me so?” Amy glanced between the two, before eyeing Dark down, deeming him to be the threat. 

“Wh-What are you talking about? What is that thing? Mark’s never played a…”

“Vampire? No dear, you’d be wrong. That idiotic creation was what he claimed me to be. ‘An emo vampire roommate’? He knew full well what I was.” Dark snarled with a snap of his shell, and she lurches back, “But that thing is just a concept. A scrapped idea only kept alive because some fans liked the idea of a vampire. And now look what we have? A starved, pathetic creature… clinging to the shadows.” He returned his attention back to her, walking towards her at a steady, calm pace. “But no matter, I hope he didn’t scare you too much dear. Or I didn’t make you too sick in my little… manoeuvre, to help you. The void is certainly helpful, is it not? Able to travel while everything else stands still, time and place irrelevant. Filled with ideas and tortures that would make you beg and plead for mercy. But you’d know all about that already, wouldn’t you, Miss Nelson?” He smirked, rolling his shoulders. “Now, it would be best to return to your room now, hmm? I’ll walk you back.” He offers his hand, straightening his posture, a look of victory clear in his gaze. Amy knows it’s not a choice. He left enough space that she had to walk to him, watching tauntingly at her trembling steps, her hand grasping his cold, dead one. The world flashes around her and Amy bites back a scream as she’s thrusted into a monochrome abyss. She’s in the same room as before, but everything hazy, flickering and shifting. Nothing moves, the flickers of the light frozen in time, the movements of the vampire caged away, dust caught unmoving in the air. “Incredibly useful. Time moves much faster here, everything else practically stands still. I leech into your pitiful dimension, examine the surroundings, make my move, then shift back into your plane. It’s as if you can teleport. But physics don’t apply here, if I wished too…” Dark sneered at her, jostling her along and shoving her into the bars. She materialized straight though, grasping onto his hand like a lifeline. “I could leave you here with him, locked behind the bars.” Her heart pounds wildly in her chest, panic pulsating and spreading though her skin. He twirls her back into him, in an almost loving embrace, except for his ice-cold skin and the deep-seated fear that boils in her mind. “But of course, I’d never let that abomination be the thing to finish you off. How could I let you die so easily? You’re much too important for something so… anticlimactic.” He chuckles, shaking his head slightly, spinning her to face him, noses practically touching as he eyes her down. “So many better ways to go…” Amy goes to form some sort of response, a retort, anything, but it’s useless. What was she supposed to say? Supposed to do? If she pissed him off now he might leave her here, whatever this weird fucked up world she was trapped within was. “Now, let me walk you back to your room, Miss Nelson. Wouldn’t want anyone else to spot you after the effort that went into sneaking here to begin with.” Dark jolts her along, shoving her out of her stunned state. She manages to get her legs walking again, his arm wrapped across her back as he silently marches her along. It’s inexpressible, a monochrome world, untouched by time. Lurching and jolting and shifting in the corners of her vision, as if not fully kept together. Led along by what was best described as a puppeted corpse. Past the pool, a strange transparent fog, frozen like ice, yet it almost still warped and rippled. The sight was nauseating. Dark didn’t offer time to gawk, keeping up his pace, forcing her to stumble alongside him. Only upon reaching the guest room does he begin to slow down. He swung the door open for her, gesturing Amy inside. He positions himself in the doorway, a tight smile played across his lips as he regards her.

“Now, I’m not going to lock the door. It’s pointless, someone will leave it unlocked anyways, and I’m not one to limit your curiosity. Just let today be a warning, curiosity did kill the cat after all. I wouldn’t want you to meet the same fate, however, it’s your choice.” With that, the world flooded back into colour, and Amy stumbled back into the bathroom door behind her, a strangled sigh of relief leaving her lips. Looking back at the doorway, Dark is already gone. She slammed the door shut, the burning tension and anxiety flooding out as anger. It didn’t last long, Amy collapsed into a seat, trying to desperately hold herself together. Day by day her hope of resolving the situation slipped away. Her kidnapping was much more well planned than had first been presumed. Her reactions, the other’s reactions, all predictable. Her attempts at escape purposefully opening to prove a point. Everything she overheard wasn’t a secret, but a show, purposely spoken for her to hear at the expense of the other’s. She was trapped, and only now did she start to realise it. Her only known option was to escape as Mark entered, but that seemed too obvious. Just as predictable as everything else. There had to be a catch, Dark wouldn’t lure Mark in with such careful plotting just to let him slip away so easily. There had to be more to it, something she was missing. But what chance did she have of figuring such a thing out now? An unknown deadline crept closer and closer. Could be hours, days, months. Dark must’ve been planning this a long time, and Amy didn’t doubt he had the patience and resolve to wait just a little longer. She was still seated there, head in hands, when there was noise outside, followed by three quick bangs on the door she didn’t even react to, not this time. A moment later she moved over to the door to pick up the plate of food on the floor outside, some form of pasta, presumably delivered by a Google. Amy didn’t eat much of it, constant nausea draining her appetite. She examined her hand, where Bim had cut it, the bandage bloodied. Her hand stung, when she concentrated she could feel her pulse throbbing against the skin around it. With all the adrenaline of the day, she had completely forgotten her wound, and now it weighed on her more than before. If she left it, considering how long she may be stuck, it would get infected, and…

The pit settled further within her stomach, and Amy pushed her food away from her. The doctor couldn’t treat her anymore, but she couldn’t leave it the way it was. Could she ask one of the others? Would any of them be willing to help her anymore? It was only a moment later when the dreaded ringing could be heard outside, and Amy’s heart jolts within her chest. Why was he here? His previous point had seemed relatively final. Amy lets herself relax slightly as the ringing faded out, passing by her room, and the curiosity wells up before she could stop it. It had to be another bait, something else for her to fear, but she stood regardless, pressing her ear to the door. What did she have to lose now? Anything that could help in her endeavour was a risk she had to take. What harm could listening do, she knew of the void now, that she had to keep her distance. Muffled noise seeped in through the doorway, and she slid the door open in an attempt to understand what she was hearing.

There was yelling outside.


End file.
